Born to Die
by noattentionspan89
Summary: "Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough". Santana learned it the hard way. Future fic. Brittana. Santana centric.
1. Prologue: Smile Like You Mean It

**Summary: "**Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough". Santana learned it the hard way. Future fic. Brittana. Santana centric.

**Born to Die**

**Chapter:** 1/?

**Word Count:** 2069

**A/N:** Title and summary of this fic come from the Lana Del Rey song. Each chapter will be named after a song. This time is The Killers' "Smile Like You Mean It". The lyrics inside are taken from No Doubt's "Don't Speak".

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

**Smile Like You Mean It**

New York, September 2017

[My apartment. Friday at 8. I've got news. Xoxo. – B.]

She had been in a funk ever since she received the message two days ago. She snapped for every little thing and she made her assistant cry more than her mother did while watching Titanic, which was a lot, and it only got worse with time. It was just a generic message, but somehow she couldn't shake the feeling she got at the pit of her stomach every time she thought about it.

Luckily, especially for her colleagues, it was nearing six o'clock so she could call it a day and make her way home to get ready.

She was already late when she flagged down a taxi to take her to her destination. She stated the address without giving the driver the chance to open his mouth. As soon as he gave a grunt of acknowledgement, she leant her head to the side window and stared at the city lights passing by.

As her mind began to wander to the message and who sent it, buzzing with thousand of possibilities, the driver turned up the volume of the radio and she lost herself in the lyrics. Those notes became the soundtrack of long lost memories. Dark and light blurred together till they became one.

_You and me _

_We used to be together _

_Everyday together always_

Before she knew it she was inside the building, with a hand raised to knock.

She could hear the weak sound of footsteps and a second later the door was burst open, but the person on the other side wasn't who she expected.

"Heya, Quinn. Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what the fuck are you doing here?" She greeted the blonde with a raised eyebrow and a skeptical look.

Not perturbed in the least the other girl replied. "You're as lovely as always, Santana."

"You know it." She rebutted with a smirk. The soft look she got in reply was not what she anticipated and did nothing but worsen her churning stomach.

"Come on. The others are in the living room."

Suddenly she had to swallow the lump in her throat and her eyes started to prickle. The tender hand pulling her forward didn't alleviate her uneasiness.

Whatever the news were, they couldn't be good. At all.

* * *

><p><em>I really feel <em>

_That I'm losing my best friend_

_I can't believe_

_This could be the end _

_It looks as though you're letting go_

_And if it's real _

_Well I don't want to know_

"I'm getting married!" The tall blonde exclaimed clapping her hands once and emitting a little squeal, eyes alight with happiness.

A second of silence followed the announcement.

It was ironic how the very thing she spent the past five years working for would be the one to completely break her heart. She knew this would have happened sooner or later, but she couldn't even remotely imagine how much a simple sentence could hurt.

The others soon started to express their joy at the news; Kurt with a very unmanly shriek and a "Let me design the dress!"

Tina hurried to hug the girl and asked "I'm one of the bridesmaids, right?" which obtained an "Of course!" from the future bride and a chorus of "Me too!" from the others.

This was immediately followed by a bickering match between Mercedes and Rachel for who would sing at the reception. "I'm obviously the one who has the voice better sui-" "Oh, Hell to the no!"

Quinn, seated in the corner with a sad smile on her face, was the only one who noticed Santana's silence amid the chaos and kept watching her lack of reaction with the corner of her eyes, sneaking a glance every couple of seconds. The Latina clenched her jaw so much that her teeth hurt from grinding together and tried not to blink or else tears would start falling from her already glossy eyes. With her best fake smile on, she took a couple of steps towards Brittany.

_Don't speak _

_I know just what you're saying_

_So please stop explaining _

_Don't tell me cause it hurts_

Staring at the floor she missed how the other girl's smile became a little strained, the happiness in her gaze a bit less bright. This went also unnoticed by the others, too occupied talking and squealing between themselves.

Santana stopped right in front of the blonde, who was trying to catch her eye and watching her with an expression that she couldn't decipher, it seemed almost as she was pleading the Latina to keep quiet and to speak up and tell her she was making a mistake at the same time.

_Don't speak _

_I know what you're thinking _

_I don't need your reasons _

_Don't tell me cause it hurts_

The brunette diverted immediately her stare by looking everywhere else in the room and closed the remaining distance before hugging Brittany and whispering in her hear with all the sincerity she could muster. "I'm happy for you, Britt-Britt"

And she was truly happy for her best friend, but somehow that couldn't outshine the despair that transpired from her very being.

With her back to the rest of the room two tears slowly ran down her cheeks, but she wiped them discretely with her hands before someone could see them.

Luckily as she disentangled from the blonde, Quinn came to her aid engulfing the taller girl in embrace and diverting the attention from her. "Now you have to tell us who's going to be the Maid of Honor!"

With a one armed hug she positioned Brittany in the middle of the room and all the others gathered around them fighting for the spot, giving to the Latina a chance to exit unnoticed.

_Our memories _

_Well, they can be inviting _

_But some are altogether _

_Mighty frightening _

_As we die, both you and I _

_With my head in my hands _

_I sit and cry_

To avoid collapsing, as soon as she crossed the threshold, she leant to the wall right beside the door and slid to the floor. The tears started to flow freely from her eyes and before long loud sobs shook her body. Coincidentally the quarrel inside covered all the noise she was making. "Without a doubt I'm goin-" "Rachel!" "What!" "You can't just assu-" "But-"

Santana put her head in her hands while thumping it on the wall, the shaking only getting worse.

As the memories of them together passed in front of her eyes she couldn't help but hug herself and lean her head on her knees and lose herself in them.

* * *

><p><span>Lima, February 2012<span>

A younger Brittany clad in a Cheerio's uniform was dragging her darker counterpart further in the locker room. With her usual enthusiasm she asked, "It's so romantic that Finn and Rachel want to get married, isn't it?"

Santana replied with a dry tone. "Yeah, if you have a taste for the horrid, really romantic."

Without diverting her attention from opening her duffel bag and getting out the necessities for the shower, the Latina continued, "What I don't understand is why their parents are allowing this…" "Marriage?" the blonde supplied.

"Yes, but I think travesty is a more a appropriate term." She countered with a smirk, and was promptly ignored.

"The other day I said to my mother that I wanted to marry you and she told me that we are too young, to wait another couple years." Brittany didn't notice the dumbstruck expression on Santana's face, who was now giving her undivided attention, and continued her monologue. "And now that I think about it, it's totally right because she wouldn't even let Lord Tubbington with the Lady Cat next door and it was so obvious he was in love. Anyway it was a good thing because that pussy was kind of easy and had a lot of admirers…"

She trailed off lost in thought while the Latina absentmindedly supplied. "I believe she was in heat"

"…So what I don't understand too is why my mom thinks we're too young, while their parents don't. I'm a sad little panda." She finished with a pout.

Santana collected her wits and replied with an awed look toward the blonde. "You want to marry me. Really?" Disbelief in her tone. "Yeah, why? You don-" Brittany didn't get the chance to finish her question because was interrupted with a deep kiss.

They stared at each for a couple of seconds, their smiles almost blinding.

Brittany cut the silence. "I always dreamed about my wedding"

"Don't worry. Now I'm not scared anymore. So, as soon as your parents give us the okay we'll get married. There's nothing that I would love more than marry you. Only you." She soothed the blonde. "I will do anything in my power to make your dream come true."

A quick look to confirm that the locker room was still empty and the serious mood was soon dropped.

"What do you say about improving our skills for the honeymoon?" The Latina proposed with a smirk and a suggestive tone, almost purring, "After all practice makes perfect…" and was dragged to the showers by a very eager girlfriend.

* * *

><p><em>It's all ending <em>

_I gotta stop pretending who we are... _

_You and me I can see us dying...are we?_

Quinn, who had extended a hand for her to take, pulled her from her musings. "I told them you had to answer a call."

If it was anyone else she would have scared them off with a glare, but the other girl could see right trough her façade, so she opted for honesty.

"Thank you." She replied with a appreciative smile, chocking on the last word, and tackled her in a strong hug.

"You're welcome. Try to compose yourself, I can keep them busy for another five minutes." With a last squeeze the blond went back to the others.

After checking for residual mascara tracks, Santana took a deep breath and clenched her fists. She looked down at her hands and lifted them in front of her face. When she finally opened them they were shaking. "I will always do anything to make your dreams come true. Always did." She whispered to herself while continuing to stare at her treacherous limbs.

Closing her eyes, she slowly lowered her arms and straightened her spine before entering the other room with the best smile she could muster on her face.

_I know you're real good _

_Don't, Don't, uh-huh Hush, hush darlin'_

She hadn't taken more than two steps when Rachel spotted her. "I was about to enquire if you nee-" Luckily Quinn stopped her rant with a gentle hand on her arm and a look. "Rach."

Brittany was staring at her too intensely for her liking, however Kurt managed to grab the reins of the situation and divert everybody's attention, Brittany's included. "Satan, you missed the long diatribe on who would deserve most to be the Maid of Honor, we all put up a fight but Brittany wouldn't change her mind." The scoff that ended the statement attested clearly what he thought of the dancer's choice at the moment. All the girls but the blondes agreed with him, as their sour expressions and firm scowls could attest.

She prepared herself for the words escaping Brittany's lips.

"San… Will you be my Maid of Honor?"

Her already aching heart broke in another thousand pieces, though. The blonde was looking at her with such faith and hopefulness that her answer could be one and one only.

"Of course." Santana whispered, and she had to clear her throat to repeat more clearly her reply. "Of course. It will be an honor."

_Hush, hush don't tell me tell me cause it hurts_

The smile she received in response was the most beautiful thing she had seen in a while.

This was the reason why she was breaking her own heart with every breath she took. This was why she was willing to fake a smile for the length of the wedding, to put on a mask of pure happiness while she was dying inside, to stand on the sidelines silently while someone else married the love of her life. This was the sole purpose of her life: to make Brittany happy, make her dreams come true. This was the reason why she broke Brittany's heart and her own in the process exactly five years before.


	2. Chapter I: Talk

**Chapter:** 2/?

**Word Count:** 3438

**A.N: ** The songs are Dido's "Don't Believe in Love" and Coldplay's "Talk".

Comments make me happy, even if negative. English is not my first language so if anyone can find the time and the patience to beta this story I will be fover in debt.

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><p><strong>Chapter I<strong>

**Talk**

New York, October 2016

_I wanna go to bed with arms around me_

_But wake up on my own_

_Pretend that I'm still sleeping_

_Til' you go home_

Slender arms slid from around Santana, pulling her from her reflections. She shut her eyes and tried to keep her breath even to simulate sleep. The bed dipped as the other person got up and started to move silently all over the room, bending to recollect their belongings. She could have sneaked a peak, after all it was still early and the room was bathed in darkness, but the Latina didn't want to risk getting caught in the process. That always caused problems. It's only as she heard the front door close that she let herself open her eyes.

_Oh I can't look at you this morning_

_I should probably have a sign_

_That says 'Leave right now or quicker'_

_You've overstayed your time_

A sigh escaped her lips and she ran her hands trough her long hair trying, failing miserably, to disentangle the knots formed during the night. The brunette threw an arm over the left side of the bed to check the time on the display of the digital alarm.

05:38.

That meant that it was too early for most people to be up yet.

Later sounds and snippets of conversations would filter through her apartment: from across the hall the footsteps of the old lady next door who took her dog, one of those looking like overgrown hamsters, for a walk as she did every day exactly at 7:43; ten minutes later from the stairs the cursing and grumbling of the kid of the couple who lived above her, constantly late to school. Oh, how she despised him… not that she usually liked kids…

She didn't have to be at work for another three hours, so she stared at the white ceiling relishing the quietness. A smile started to form on her face as the past seven hours rewound in her mind.

* * *

><p>The music beat was loud.<p>

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It echoed with the pounding of her racing heart, making her blood boil. Santana didn't think, she just felt; the slick sweat on her glistening skin, the touch of the people spinning around her, the blond hair which blocked out her view, preventing her to be aware of her surroundings.

She lost herself in the sensual dance.

The brunette moved her body as it was the only way to express herself, to show her needs to the entire world. She was just a body, an animal, only aware of the hunger inside her.

She moved her hands over pale skin, never letting them stop in one place for too long; they flew from an elegant neck, slowly down toned arms and around a flat stomach, and back all over again.

Keeping her eyes closed the Latina let her other senses do the leading.

When the burning in her core became too much she leant her face near a delicate ear and whispered with a raspy voice full of promises. "Why don't we take this somewhere else, beautiful?"

The answer as always was immediate; a clammy hand pulled her away from the dance floor, towards the exit, and she was slammed against a brick wall.

Glad that her eyes didn't have the time to adjust to the dark hallway, she switched position.

Santana bent a little her left leg and pushed it forward with all her weight until her body was molded against supple heat. Loud moans escaped both parties. In the cold night small clouds formed with each shuddering breath they took.

Her mouth attached to a long neck, teeth scraping against taut tendons. She sucked the skin, leaving behind angry marks.

A sound, a cuss, "Fuck." escaped the creature in front of her and Santana put a hand on her mouth to silence her.

But it was too late. The illusion was already broken.

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. When she reopened them, they were indecipherable. The heat had disappeared, replaced by anger. Blue eyes turned dark from desire, too focused on plump lips, didn't notice the change in her demeanor. Hands grabbed her shoulder and she found them in reversed positions. The violence reignited her fire and in a hiss she rasped. "Less talking and more action, okay?"

The smirk she received was confirmation enough. Grasping a handful of hair and tugging she latched her mouth on a jutting collarbone.

She could keep pretending for a while more. 

As Santana came down from her high little whimpers escaped her lips and blended together becoming unrecognizable, but she knew what they said. It was always the same. They echoed with the pounding of her heart. Britt. Britt. Britt.

She shivered, however the cold she felt didn't come from the layer of drying sweat left on her skin; it came from inside her.

She turned on her other side and buried her face in the pillow. When arm wound around her seeking warmth she stiffened. The small gesture didn't bring her comfort and the body next to her didn't alleviate her loneliness.

It was long after she felt steady breathing next to her ear that the Latina finally fell asleep. Her pillow was drenched in tears.

* * *

><p><em>If I don't believe in love nothing will last for me<em>

_If I don't believe in love nothing is safe for me_

_When I don't believe in love you're too close to me_

_And that's why you have to leave_

That smile vanished as it never appeared at all.

Even if her body was sated, her heart longed for more. No, not for more. It longed for something different.

Their eyes weren't bright enough, or mischievous enough. They never were the right shade of light blue, like the color of a clear morning sky, and almost feline like in shape.

Their hair was always too dark or too curly. It was never long and silky enough and it surely never smelled of vanilla.

They were always wrong; too tall, too pale, too…wrong. They couldn't compare, not even closely.

They…they weren't _Her_.

_If I don't believe in love_

_Nothing is left for me_

Her fingers dialed a number without her brain registering doing it. The Latina was shook from her reverie when it started to ring. A groggy voice answered before she had a chance to hang up.

"Hello?"

She froze. It was a male voice.

"Who's th-" She closed the call without giving him time to finish.

A loud sob escaped from her lips and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Her left hand gripped the phone with so much strength that the knuckles turned white, while on her right palm blood had started seeping out from the cuts left from her nails. With a sudden movement she threw the phone against the mirror on the wall shattering it in a thousand pieces.

Careful not to cut herself she knelt to collect a fragment. She almost didn't recognize the woman staring back at her. This wasn't Santana Lopez. This wasn't the HBIC everyone was scared of.

She couldn't believe this was what became of the teenager of five years before.

Red-rimmed eyes stared back at her. She looked as lost as she felt.

* * *

><p>She gazed at her reflection for a long while without moving a muscle. Finally a trembling hand reached for the phone and dialed a number she hadn't called in a long time. After a couple of second someone picked up.<p>

"Hello?"

Her throat closed up and no words escaped.

"Hello? If this is a joke it's not fun-"

"Hi, Q." Santana swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Quinn exhaled from the other end of the line. "Santana." Her stupor didn't last long. "Fuck. Look, I don't want to talk to you. You can't call me once a year and expect me to…" She stopped and took a deep breath.

The Latina didn't give her time to continue her tirade. "What do you say about meeting for coffee? I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

A pause. "Okay."

They agreed on place and time and hung up.

Santana could see hundreds of smiles reflected from the fragments of mirror still the floor. They were a bit broken and tentative. They clearly weren't much, but it felt like a start nonetheless.

* * *

><p>Quinn was already at the café when Santana arrived. The blond was seated inside near the big window overlooking the busy street. It was the perfect position to exit quickly if necessary. Knowing Quinn the setting wasn't accidental.<p>

"Hi, Q."

The blonde lifted her gaze from the book she was reading. Then she lowered her eyes and with poise and calm put a bookmark between the pages and closed it. After putting it away in her bag she rose from the table and stood next to her chair.

She finally lifted her gaze on Santana and the only warning the Latina got was the flashing of those green eyes, before a slap echoed through the room.

"Ouch. Fuck, Q. I hope you don't greet all your friends in this way." Santana commented while stroking her abused cheek. "It was almost as good as the one I gave Finn that one time in Glee club." She added to alleviate the tension.

All she got in response was a harsher glare. "You can't expect me to greet you with open arms after five years without a visit. Especially after what you did to Brittany. Tell me why I shouldn't leave right now."

"It's a long story, it's better if we sit down." 

They remained in silence until the waitress left their table.

"You look great, Q."

"Thanks. But don't try to distract me." The blonde leant back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Why? Why now? What changed? Usually you call me about once a year to check if I'm still alive." And added as an afterthought. "…If _She_ is still alive."

Santana took a deep breath and admitted. "I called her."

"You what!" The look she received was murderous to say in the least and she stared down at her hands. "You can't-"

"She doesn't know." She whispered without lifting her eyes.

"You left a messa-"

"No."

"Then what are you-" Quinn was really puzzled.

"She didn't pick up." A beat. "He did."

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

"What did you say?" The blonde was starting to get angry again. "I hope you didn't-"

"I hung up. I didn't say anything." She didn't look convinced. "I swear."

"Then why did you call me?" Quinn's voice got higher with the more frustrated she felt. "You can't decide that you can waltz back in her life now that she's finally happy. Just because she's with someone else and you can't have her. I won't stand this. I won't let you fuck up her life. So I'm…" She trailed off noticing the sad smile on the Latina's face. "Why are you smiling now?"

"I'm just happy that you kept your word."

That didn't help the blonde in the slightest. "What are you talk-" Something clicked in her mind.

* * *

><p><em>Oh brother I can't I can't get through<em>

_I've been tryin' hard to reach you 'cause I don't know what to do_

_Oh brother I can't believe it's true_

_I'm so scared about the future and I want to talk to you_

_Oh I want to talk to you_

The two had been studying in silence all afternoon, cooped up in Santana's room.

"Promise me that you'll always be Brittany's friend."

The blonde was startled for a second, concentration broken, and then she rolled her eyes at the request. "How can you not be her friend? If your girl put her mind to it she could befriend even a rock." She moved her gaze back to the pages in front of her.

"Please, swear that you'll always try to take care of her."

She gave the brunette an incredulous look. "Are you high? Maybe it's the too much studying…"

"Amuse me." Santana said with an eye-roll. "_Please."_

"Ugh. Okay. I_ swear._" This was followed by a scoff. "Can we go back to the Second World War? We've got the finals in a couple of weeks."

"Whatever you want, _Princess_." Santana replied with a smirk.

"Ugh. Today you are even more insufferable than usual. Didn't think it was possible…" Quinn commented before immersing herself in the book.

"You love me."

"Only because you help me with Spanish." She added without lifting her eyes, with her mind on the dates to memorize.

She didn't notice a sad smile appear on Santana's face.

* * *

><p>"You already knew back then, didn't you?" Quinn passed a hand through her hair. "It doesn't make sense. You stayed together until the end of the summer before college. Why did you ask me that back in May?"<p>

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but the waitress arrived with their orders, and decided to stay quiet. The Latina could see the cogs turning in her mind.

Santana reached for her frappuccino; however her hands shook too much so she folded them in her lap, clenching them tightly together. The blonde didn't notice anything, busy receiving her cup.

Once again left alone Santana replied. "Because I knew you would have done as I asked."

"Why not later? Right before you left?"

"In that way you would have noticed something was up. I wanted to leave unnoticed."

"But it didn't go that way, as you planned." It was an honest observation; it didn't held resentment.

"No, it didn't. At all." The regret in her voice was almost palpable.

They stayed quiet, Quinn sipping her drink and Santana looking outside the window.

"Why me?"

"You were my best friend, other than Her."

"No, I mean now."

"You still are." With a self-deprecating smile she added. "Doesn't that say a lot about me?"

Quinn shook her head denying the statement. "You could have called Puck. I know you two kept in touch. Hell, you could have called Rachel. Anyone but me. Even if I look calm now I still want to kill you. I'll just wait until you finish to explain everything."

"They wouldn't understand."

"And I would?" The disbelief was clear in her tone.

"Yes."

She was becoming frustrated again. "What have I got that the others don't?"

"You know what it means to love something enough to let them go; to set them free. Because you couldn't give them everything they deserved, because you couldn't make them happy."

The answer floored Quinn, but she quickly replaced her astonishment with rage. "Oh, don't give me that self-hating crap. It's all bullshit." She stood. "We all left Lima that year, you can't use that excuse." She threw ten dollars on the table and turned to leave. "If you are going to feed me lies, I'm going to go or else I may do something I won't regret in the slightest." And with that final shot she started to move towards the exit.

A hand on her arm stopped her short. "Please, Q. Listen to what I have to say. If after you still think that, I'll let you walk out that door and you won't hear from me ever again. Okay?"

The pain swirling in those dark eyes persuaded her. "Okay." She took her previous position and leant her elbows on the table, manners be damned. "I'm listening."

Santana took a deep breath to recollect her thought and began to describe the past five years of her life to the blonde.

_Are you lost or incomplete?_

_Do you feel like a puzzle, you can't find your missing piece?_

_Tell me how you feel_

_Well I feel like they're talkin' in a language I don't speak_

_And they're talkin' it to me_

At the end of her tale both had tears in her eyes.

"That's it… So am I forgiven?" The Latina asked with a tentative smile. "No." It fell. "Because it's not my right to forgive you. It's _hers_. If anything I am the one who owes you an apology. I could have been a better friend for you."

Standing up and opening her arms Quinn engulfed the brunette in a hug.

"I'm happy that you finally got the guts to meet me and pull your head from your ass."

"I see that you, on the other hand, still got a stick lodged in it." Santana quipped with a genuine smile.

"Har har. You're hilarious." The response was accompanied with an eye-roll.

"One of my many qualities."

"Oh, so modest."

"That too."

They both broke in matching grins.

"Don't be a stranger anymore, okay?" With a last squeeze they separated. "But the threat I made before is still valid. Don't fuck up with her." The glare testified how serious the blonde was.

"Don't worry. I have no intention of calling her. Just one thing…"

"Is she happy? With him? I mean, does he make her happy?" Santana had to ask, to know if she did everything for a good reason.

"Yes, she is and he does." Quinn replied with honesty.

"Then I'm happy for her." The comment was followed by a sad smile.

With a last nod the blonde went to leave. "Q!" At the call she turned to look back over her shoulder. "Thanks." Santana offered before going in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>Walking through the busy streets, the Latina made her way back home with her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. They wouldn't stop shaking.<p>

The more she thought about the previous conversation the more she convinced herself of having done the right thing; Quinn couldn't know the whole truth yet, she wasn't ready. Someday she would be, until then that cross was only hers to bear. But after having finally told someone such big part of the story, even if it was full of half-truths and missing pieces, Santana felt a lot lighter.

She needed a friend. She needed Quinn. Now she felt a little less alone. In some contorted way, having a third of the Unholy Trinity back in her life meant she was bit nearer _Her_. But that wasn't enough to quench the ache in her heart. 

At the same time in another part of the city Quinn had just arrived home. She closed the door with her foot and threw the keys in the bowl on the table. From the kitchen she could hear the noises of someone rummaging in the fridge.

"Hey, I hope you're not trying to cook. You remember what happened last time." She said leaning against the doorframe.

Her roommate replied without taking their head from inside the fridge. "Don't worry. I was just trying to find the Chinese leftovers."

"If you want I can cook something for us both, I am a bit hungry."

The smile she received was blinding. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver. Recipes are so confusing, I don't know what I would do without you."

"Starve to death." Quinn deadpanned.

"No, I would just eat frozen pizza and chips and cookies. Ohhh and tho-"

"Okay, okay. I get it." She interrupted with a laugh.

The pasta was almost ready when her roommate asked. "Where you on a date? Usually you came home earlier."

"Uhm, you know…" She racked her brain for a name when her gaze fell on the TV, where the promo of a new rom-com was on. "…Justin, a friend from Yale, was here in New York, so we met to catch up. You remember that café, Olsen's, we went there for a cup of coffee. Yeah…" She gave herself a mental pat on the back for the quick thinking.

"You could have told me. The studio is not far from it, we could have made the way back home together." A pout followed the observation.

"Next time, Britt. I promise." She replied in the sincerest tone she could manage.

Once in her room, she laid on her bed staring at the ceiling. She didn't know what would have happened if she had let escape her recent meeting with Santana. She sighed, keeping the two apart was a lot more difficult than it seemed. She still wasn't sure of what to think of the Latina. What she had been told seemed believable, but she felt as if there was still something missing and it was just out of her reach. She ran her hand through her hair. She had the inkling that things would get bad soon.

She cursed the brunette. She was in for many sleepless nights.


	3. Chapter II: Every Teardrop Is A Waterfal

**Chapter:** 3/?

**Word Count:** 6326

**A/N:** I know nothing about New York and the law business so if you can, please ignore eventual mistakes or give me suggestions, they are always welcome.

Your comments had been awesome; you're too kind. From now on I'll reply in detail on my Tumblr page (it's the same as my penname) before every new part comes out.

This is an introductive chapter; the good stuff has yet to come. The songs are The Paper Kites' "Bloom", Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" and Coldplay's "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall".

Be patient and enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter II<strong>

**Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall**

New York, November 2016

"No…no…what did he say? ...Of course…yes…no…why can't anybody ever do what I ask? Is it that difficult?" The volume of her voice was raising, "I just asked you to do a single, simple thing. Even a baby sloth would have been able to do it. Call me only when it's done." And with that she closed the call. Santana took off her eyeglasses with her left and her right pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve some of the pressure rising in her head. She took a deep breath and, after placing her glasses back on, immersed herself in the documents in front of her.

Since she had moved to New York almost two years before, all her workdays had been like this; often the weekends too. Nothing could bring her out of her habits, not even the holidays. She hadn't been back in Lima since the day she left for college. She tried to evade everything connected to her past. She heard from her family once a month via phone and once a year from Quinn and that was it, till the previous month. She couldn't believe she had finally reached her breaking point and made that call. Though, apart from a couple of calls and several messages and e-mails, nothing changed.

Consequently to her encounter with Quinn the Latina had fallen back into her routine. Alarm set at 6 a.m., a long shower, a quick breakfast and she was ready for work.

She was grateful for her routine; it didn't give her the chance to think. Reflecting on what to eat, when to wake, or what to wear would have led her to remembering about what _she_ liked to eat, Lucky Charms were her favorite and the Latina usually even tried to evade the breakfast isle in supermarkets, and how adorable _she_ looked in the morning.

* * *

><p>It was their senior year of high school and they had finally started dating officially the previous week. Santana had been feeling like on high since then. She had even smiled and carried on when a freshman bumped in to her, scaring him to death.<p>

Her parents were working the night shifts and her younger brother was staying at one of his schoolmates' house so she had the entire house to herself…and Brittany. She invited the blonde over for a movie marathon since it was a Friday and they didn't have school the following day.

It had been a very quiet affair, almost as they were having one of their old sleepovers, when they were still in middle school; they put on their pajamas, watched a couple of Disney's movies, Brittany favorites, ordered a Hawaiian pizza to share and stayed awake late talking about everything and nothing.

Santana had almost fallen asleep when she felt the taller girl shift her body until she was above her, supporting her weight with her arms. Those blue eyes were bright; the light coming from the street posts outside hit them just in the right way to cause them to sparkle as if they were made of diamonds. The rest of the room was bathed in darkness showcasing even more the scene.

Santana felt her heart constrict and then expand. With a gentle hand she put a stray lock of blond hair that fell on her pillow behind a delicate ear and she kept it there. Brittany leant in the touch. They turned for a kiss at the same time as if they shared not only one heart, but also one mind.

That night they expressed their love without uttering a word.

_In the morning when I wake  
>And the sun is coming through,<br>Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness,  
>And you fill my head with you.<em>

A sunray hitting her right in the face woke the brunette from her slumber. The first thing she noticed were the arms wrapped tight around her as if the other girl was afraid to let her go. She admired the view of a pale shoulder and a slender back before resting her gaze on long legs twined with her own. She buried her face in blond hair, inhaling her favorite smell; after a couple of seconds she was asleep again, a smile stamped on her face.

_Shall I write it in a letter?  
>Shall I try to get it down?<br>Oh, you fill my head with pieces  
>Of a song I can't get out.<em>

The second time she woke up the blonde was nowhere to be found, she panicked before hearing the sound of running water in the bathroom; when Brittany entered the room wearing an old Cheerio's sweatshirt with Lopez written on the back, the brunette was struck. In that instant she swore to herself she would do anything to wake up to that view for the rest of her life.

_Can I be close to you?_

Then she caught the other girl, pouncing on her the second she hit the bed. Brittany wearing her clothes had always been a major turn-on.

* * *

><p>Work was what helped the most. The fast pace of it didn't give her the chance to stop, not even for a second. While her sixteen old self would have hated the repetitiveness, she would have loved what the job entitled her to do. Throwing insults left and right and ordering other people around had always been her favorite pastime. Receiving a paycheck doing it was just a bonus. Studying nonstop for three years and graduating at the top of her class paid its results and now she had been made partner in one of the most important law firms in the city, hell in the whole State.<p>

However during days like that she often asked herself if the trouble was worth it. When her secretary knocked and entered her office without waiting for her consent she was ready to let out some of her pent-up frustration on the poor woman. "Millie, did waiting for a 'come in' become out of style?"

"There's someone here to see you."

Santana sighed. "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed."

The frail woman was becoming more and more frantic, "They wouldn't take no for an answer." And with a grimace she waited for the yelling. Providentially that person entered the room stopping the tirade before it could even start.

"Satan, aren't you happy to see me? Most women would be thanking their lucky stars if they were to receive a visit from me."

"As you know I'm not like most women." The Latina dismissed her assistant with an absentminded wave of her left hand. "You can go, Millie. I know it's not your fault." The older woman left closing the door behind her, reflecting on why she hadn't started to look for another job yet; the answer at the moment escaped her.

"What are you doing here? Your sole purpose in life is to annoy me as much as you can?"

"No, I'm here to take you out to lunch." Santana groaned and opened her mouth to sprout a sarcastic comment, but was immediately silence. "And I'll bug you until you accept so just say yes and save the effort."

"Okay, but you better pay." And moved to retrieve her trench coat. "Of course. What kind of man do you think I am? I'm a gentleman." A sour look from the Latina showed clearly her thoughts on the matter. "Do you really want me to amend that statement?"

"How I love when you speak lawyer."

"Why do I bother?"

"Because you love me. Everyone loves me… Especially the ladies, but not only, you know I like to keep my options open." The expression he wore was as slimy as the first time she has seen it and the wink she received accentuated the image.

She gave an eye roll. "You remind me more and more of Puckerman."

"Please, do not compare me to that squirrel wearing manwhore." And shaking off from his shoulders imaginary dust he added. "I have much more style."

She gave him a doubting look. "If you say so... You still look like Mr. Shue's illegitimate son with those curls."

A gasp escaped him at the remark. "You can't…" He stopped to display his shock.

"I can. I'm not the first person to say so." A grin was threatening to appear on her face, but she used all of her acting skills to keep the scowl in place.

"How much gel did you put in there?" With fake curiosity she lifted a hand to his hair, which he hastily swatted away.

"Don't touch it."

They left bickering all the way to the elevators, leaving an amused Millie behind. Before the doors closed she heard a shriek. "Do you know-" The rest of the sentence was too low to hear. This was why she hadn't changed work yet, or at least boss; Miss Lopez may be cold and harsh, but when she directed her temper elsewhere she made great entertainment.

* * *

><p>Jess was the same he had always been: self-centered, selfish and with an ego the size of New York. But he could take her insults and retaliate with some of his own. However he was really touchy when it came to the subject of hair. It was one of the best moments of her day when she could insult his curls. She now understood how Coach Sylvester felt taking jabs at the expense of the Spanish teacher. She mentally made a note to send a letter with the best ones to Sue for Christmas.<p>

Santana didn't know how they became friends, if she could label them that way. Probably it had to do with how similar they were and how they both wished to forget the past. They never talked about feelings and they were ready to insult the other when they were down. They were exactly what they both needed, an escape.

She observed him in silence while he flirted shamelessly with the cute waitress; it was evident he didn't know the concept of subtlety; he could be more obvious only if he threw her on his shoulder like a caveman. She thought that he resembled a peacock with the way he puffed up his chest and flaunted his hairstyle. Deciding to interrupt his mating ritual, she laid a hand on the girl's arm, drawing her attention. "I'm really sorry to be so rude, but sadly I have to get back to the office in twenty minutes, so if you could take us two of today's special and two glasses of water it would be wonderful. Thank you."

If the waitress was flustered before, now was close to hyperventilating. "Yes, yes. Of course. I'll be right back." And with that she scurried away.

The man in front of her pouted and she sent a smirk his way. "It's not fair! She was eating from the palm of my hand. Another second and she would have given me her number."

"Wanna bet?"

"You're on. Nobody can resist me."

The object of their discussion came back with their order. "Can I give you something else?"

"Sit with us for a moment. We could get to know each other better." Jess added with a smile that could have melted ice.

The girl was still reticent. "I have to get bet to work, I'm sorry." And she left to serve other customers.

"So, Romeo…Didn't go as you planned, did it?" Santana derided him.

"Wait. It's not the end. Look." He motioned the waitress to come closer. "Could you take me the check, please? And your number too? You see, I'm a very determined person and you caught my attention. I won't rest until I know everything about you."

"I'm sorry, but I have a boyfriend." She dashed to the register before he could utter another word.

"Lost your touch, Casanova?" Santana mocked his companion.

"You are one to talk. I didn't see you try."

"Lemme." She leaned back in her chair.

But she didn't bother the waitress anymore until they were out the door and Jess had commented the lack of results from the Latina.

"Gimme a sec." She left him right out the window and went back in the café. He could see everything from outside, but couldn't hear a word. The two girls exchanged a couple of words, the brunette must have said something funny because the redhead had started laughing, then reached for notepad and pen and wrote something on a piece of paper. Santana kissed her on the cheek making her smile and waved before skipping out the door. Once they were out of view the Latina passed him the note.

_Nicky. 0964-8643528. Xoxo_

He was flabbergasted. "How?"

"A magician never reveals her secrets." She laughed at his expression and patted on the back. "Let's say feminine wiles."

"I hate you."

"Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that you owe me dinner."

"I won't talk to you ever again."

"I'll sue you. A debt is a debt."

He groaned. "I lose every single time. Why do I keep betting against you?"

"Masochism?" She added unhelpfully. He scoffed, but didn't reply.

"Come on! It's not true that I always win. Do you remember that Swedish hottie?" She asked trying to lift his spirits.

"That doesn't count. It was the first bet."

"So? Totally my type: blonde and blue eyed. You won fair."

"The name was Sven. A man. Not exactly your flavor."

She grinned and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm too hot to pass up." She added. "And if I remember correctly you had a lot of fun that night."

His eyes glazed over. "Yeah…" He smiled again. "So dinner at Mauro's Friday night after my extraordinaire performance in theatre?"

"You know me too well. I can't resist Italian food…and your performance is mediocre at best." She waited for the reaction.

He stopped walking and put a hand over his heart, his expression one of pure heartbreak. He open his mouth to recite in detail all of his acting skills when the ringing of a mobile interrupted his monologue.

Santana took her iPhone out of her purse and answered the call. "Hello?...Hi…" Jess looked on with interest. "Yes…Maybe…Is it everything all right?" A pause. "…I don't know, I'm not the best-…Isn't there anyone else you could ask?" Another pause and a sigh. "Okay. Okay…" Santana glanced his way and he tilted his head in question. "Is it okay if I bring someone?...Who did you take me for?" She ran a hand through her hair and appraised him from head to toe. "Let's say moral support…I know it's important!" She scoffed. "I'll see you tomorrow…8 sharp. Bye." She closed the call.

Jess asked with dread. "What did you set me up for?"

The grin he received in answer didn't alleviate his fears. When Santana got that glint in her eyes only meant trouble, usually for him. "Tomorrow you'll see. And don't worry, I'm in this too."

"That's exactly why I'm worried…" He mumbled under his breath.

"You like to sing, right?"

He snorted. "It's my job as you are well aware."

"Then it won't be a problem. You're going to make more fans." Her white teeth gleamed in the light, making her seem almost feral and he gulped. "Just wear your best casual outfit." Sometime he really regretted the day he met her in New York.

* * *

><p>It was March of the same year. He had gone out with his co-star for a couple of dates, before he succeeded to seal the deal. It wasn't that great, so after he treated her as it never happened. Let's say she wasn't too happy. The next thing he knew was that she had sued him for sexual harassment.<p>

The production threatened to fire him, but luckily he was more famous than that skunk so they couldn't do so without causing a scandal. The law company assigned his case to a new rising lawyer. He just knew what transpired through the grapevine: Lopez was the best the public relations branch of the firm had to offer.

When he entered the building he heard several women gossiping in the hall. Whoever this Lopez was, he must surely be something; all the girls were swooning over how "charming" and "hot" that guy was. Jess felt he had found a kindred spirit. He didn't know that the 38th floor, where Santana worked, had a completely different opinion of the lawyer.

He was directed to a waiting room. He had almost finished reading an article about his performance in a new Broadway show when a woman in her fifties called his name.

He entered a spacious office; the other person, seated on an easy chair and looking at the skyline, was giving him the back so he couldn't establish their identity.

"I was told you were the best at what you do. I am too at what I do." Jess announced his arrival with a smirk on his face and extended a hand over the desk for the introductions. He wasn't ready for what awaited him. The chair swirled on its wheels and he found himself face to face with someone he hadn't seen in over six years.

"I see you haven't changed one bit. You're still the same pompous ass. Let's skip the formalities, what did you do this time, Jess?" Her eyes were shining from amusement and her smile was so big that he could see all of her teeth.

After staring at her for a couple of seconds, he threw his head back and laughed. "Santana Lopez. It's good to see you." For the first time he meant it.

He soon found out her reputation was deserved. She could be a true bitch when irritated and disarming when in a good mood, but when it came to work she was a professional; she was the best lawyer he could have asked for. While working on his case they somehow they built a relationship, not sentimental, mind you, but friendly. They slowly started bugging each other and spending time together when they weren't busy. It wasn't often as they had very different and full schedules. He didn't know how, but it worked.

When the charges were dropped, they continued to keep in touch. Habitually they went hunting in clubs together; it was easier for them to catch their preys that way, they balanced each other. It was during their second night out that he found out about Santana's penchant for the ladies. He, on the other hand, just needed them breathing and good-looking; it didn't matter if male, female, blonde, brunettes…He liked to define himself a man of equal opportunities. On the contrary, the Latina had a very specific taste; it didn't matter if she started looking for a redhead or a brunette, she always ended with a blue-eyed blonde. He didn't ask and she didn't tell, some beasts were best left sleeping.

* * *

><p>That was how he arrived the following morning on the Latina's front steps. She owed him big. The next night out she will better find a couple of twins for him to hook up with…<p>

She reached him pulling him out of his fantasies. She was dressed in a short dress and high boots, the outfit screamed sex. It was unlike her usual attire during the day, which generally consisted of a two-piece suit.

He whistled. "Where are we going? Whoring ourselves on the streets?"

She thwacked the back of his head. "It's a surprise."

"I feel underdressed. If I knew I would have worn something more S&M. Do you have a whip in there?"

If looks could kill he would be a pile of ash. "Okay, but at least can I chose the radio station?" As soon as he was in the front seat he started rummaging through her iPod. Once he found a song of his liking, he started singing along the lyrics to Santana's chagrin. "Sometimes you're worse than Berry." She whispered to herself. Soon however he managed to convince her to join and they behaved as two fools until they reached their destination.

They shared a look of pure horror at the sign above the entrance of the building in front of them.

_MADISON HIGH SCHOOL_

The black capital letters stared back at them. Coincidentally they were the only ones in the parking lot, thus they could take a second to calm down.

Santana realized in that moment how screwed they were; before she hadn't really absorbed the reality of the situation. They had to go back to high school and motivate a bunch of uninterested teenagers to join glee club. She thought that this was how April Rhodes must have felt those years ago. At least she was younger and better looking…and totally not repeating high school. And she had Jess at his side. She looked at him; he was white as a ghost.

He whined. "Do we have to…?" He gulped as if he was too scared to complete the question.

"Yes. But think of all the teachers you could charm and the short cheerleaders' outfits." She lost herself for a second in memories, before shaking her head to get rid of them.

"And some of them are eighteen years old or more, right?" He asked.

"Yes." That seemed to convince him. He took her hand in his and dragged her behind. "Come on. Hordes of swooning fans, I'm coming."

She shook her head; he was incorrigible.

He suddenly stopped. "Wait. Who are we looking for?"

"Quinn Fabray. You should remember her."

He seemed surprised. "Blonde. Scary. Uptight. This tall…" He mimed her approximate height.

"Yes. You summarized her main characteristics very well."

"Wow. We just need Rachel Berry in those short miniskirts…" Their minds went off track for a second. "…And it would feel like old times."

"Have I ever told you how much of a pervert you are?"

"Yes, many times. I'm proud of it." He smirked.

Santana sent a text to the blonde and immediately got a response. "She's waiting for us in the choir room." With that they entered.

Quinn in the meantime was pacing the room. She was second-guessing her choice to create a glee club in this school. Many of the teenagers attending Madison were from broken homes and had a lot of problems. This was one of the worst neighborhoods of New York and she couldn't hope to solve their problems with a song. But music could be helpful; she knew that from experience. When everything seemed too much, music could help you see the light at the end of the tunnel.

This was way she started teaching: to help the kids, to aid them avoid making the same mistakes she did. She loved Beth, but sometimes she wished things were different.

She took a deep breath, in an hour she would know if she made the right choice. She hoped the show would convince some of her students to join. She told the ones in her classes of the event and she trusted them to spread the rumor. She didn't know what would arrive through the grapevine, but anything was better than nothing at all.

She asked the Latina's help for an exact reason: to catch their attention. And if there was something Santana excelled at, it was holding the spotlight and convincing people to do what she wanted.

Quinn thought about the call she made the day before.

* * *

><p>She had just gotten home after a grueling morning at school. However she was in good spirits because she had received the authorization from the principal to open a glee club.<p>

She hollered through the apartment. "Anyone home?"

"In the living room!" She heard.

She found Brittany lying upside down on the couch. "What are you doing?"

"I'm watching a movie." The dancer deadpanned.

"Why are you sitting that way?"

"The movie was boring, so I thought that maybe this way would get more interesting." Quinn shook her head in amusement. "Is it working?"

"No." She answered with a pout and twisted her body like a pretzel before sitting right again. "Wanna watch something with me?"

"No, B. I'm dead tired. Maybe next time?"

"Ok. No prob." Her attention went back to the screen.

Quinn remember what she wanted to talk about. "I'm forming a glee club a school." The reaction was enthusiastic. "Really? It's so cool. If I didn't suck so bad at studying I would go back to high school to join your glee club."

The teacher smiled with fondness. "Thanks, B. But maybe you can help me making more students join. Tomorrow I'm going to put up a show, so they can see that it's not something only geeks do, and that also the popular crew can have fun signing up. What do you say? Do you want to show off those mad skills of yours?"

The taller girl seemed truly dejected. "I'm sorry, but tomorrow I have a dance class I can't absolutely miss."

"Don't worry, Britt. Maybe you could come as a guest another time."

"Yay!"

"I have to make a call. See you later?"

"You'll find me here. Today is my day off." She waved at Quinn, before adopting an impossible position on the couch. The teacher shook her head; she couldn't find anyone more unique than Brittany even if she traveled the whole world.

Once she was inside her room with the door closed, sure that the other girl couldn't overhear her, she dialed a familiar number.

"Santana, it's Quinn…Hi…Can I ask you a favor?...Are you free tomorrow morning?...I just need a couple hours…Yes, everything is well. I just got the okay to start a glee club at school, so I needed a little help…Don't worry, it's just a song…" She started pacing her bedroom. "No, they are busy." She was careful not to say Brittany's name. "Please. I wouldn't ask you this if it wasn't absolutely necessary." She gave a sigh of relief. "Yes…Please, tell me it's not some skunk you want to impress…" She furrowed her eyebrows. "Look, it's import-" She was interrupted. "…The earlier the better…Okay. See you tomorrow."

Quinn sighed; her troubles were only starting. And teenagers were the least of her problems.

* * *

><p>The vibration of her phone pulled her from her reverie. It was from Santana; it was time to start the games. The show was on.<p>

She noticed him the second he stepped in the room. "St. James?"

"The one and only." He smirked.

"Fortunately." The brunette rebutted.

He nodded. "Too much sex appeal, the Earth could explode."

She snorted. "Yes, but because of your ego."

A gasp. "You wound me."

An eye-roll. "Poor you."

Quinn interrupted the tennis match. "Where did you find him? Among the X-Factor rejects?"

Santana laughed, "I found him on my doorstep and couldn't send him away. He's so cute." And pinched his cheek.

He scowled. "I'm not cute! And not a dog!"

"You're kind of a bitch…" She replied absentmindedly. "Anyway, here we are. At your service, milady." She curtsied. "What can we do for you?"

"Stop fooling around for a start." The teacher rolled her eyes. "We're going to sing a song or two each and a group number. I want to show them there is more to a choir than it seems on the surface."

Jess had a serious expression on his chiseled face. "Seems good to me. It didn't appear at the time, but Vocal Adrenaline meant a lot to me. Not just the winning part. It felt nice being part of something bigger."

For the first time the three of them agreed on something.

In the seats of the auditorium, it wasn't big or all put together as their old one but it was better than using the choir room, there were about fifty students. Quinn knew that more than half of them were there just to skip a class, but it felt good to have such a big audience.

She walked to the middle of the stage. "Some of you might know me as the new English teacher. For those of you who don't know I'm Miss Fabray. I hope you all could give a chance to the glee cl-" She was interrupted by a jock. "Sure. Then I'll start wearing braces and glasses an-" Santana didn't give him the opportunity to finish his joke. She stepped on the stage and took place next to Quinn. "If I were you I would stop talking, because I'm sure braces could help those beaver teeth of yours. I can see them from here" And she mimed the animal. The whole audience erupted in hysterics at his expenses.

The blonde shot her friend a half grateful, half exasperated glance and continued her speech. "As I was saying, you should give it a chance. Glee club is more than a stupid choir where people sing because they have nothing better to do. Glee is a family. It's a place where you can be accepted as you are."

Someone yelled from the back. "It's a social suicide!" Nods and whispers came from all around the room.

"Maybe. But it's also the best thing that happened to me in high school. It's your chance to express yourself, to show you can do something on your own. You can be part of something extraordinary. My old glee club, New Direction," Snickers broke throughout the auditorium, even Santana snorted, "Not you too…" Quinn whispered and went on "Won National during my senior year. The previous time we went to finals here in New York. That time I fell in love with the city."

She shared a last look with the brunette before Santana went backstage.

"We are a bit rusty,"

Jess commented indignant. "I'm not. My pitch is as perfect as it has always been, thank you very much." Many chuckled at the remark. "But we'll do our best to show how powerful a glee club can be." And with that started singing.

She received applause from the remaining audience. Several students had exited during her speech, and now there were only about thirty people in the stands. Some of them looked bored, a few were chatting, but twenty or so looked interested. It was a good result.

Santana took her place in the center of the stage. "When Quinn," The blonde shot her a look, which she retaliated with an eye-roll. "Sorry, when Miss Fabray told me to sing to a bunch of teenagers, I thought she was crazy, but then I remembered about my old glee club. Even if I was a cheerleader, glee club was the best part of my day. It gave me something to look forward to. Give it a fucking chance." Quinn scolded her. "Santana!" So she added a hasty, "Please." Causing everyone's hilarity.

"Reputation isn't everything!"

The notes of a rock song sounded through the room.

_I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation_

_You're living in the past, it's a new generation_

_A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do_

She hopped down the stage and seated herself in the lap of a nerdy looking kid to his terror; he almost looked as he was going to pass out.

_I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation_

_I've never been afraid of any deviation_

_An' I don't really care if you think I'm strange _

_I ain't gonna change_

She then got up and wrapped her arms around the nearest cheerleader to the joy of the male population, who started whistling and catcalling. With a final kiss to the cheek of the poor girl who had started resembling a tomato she returned to the stage. At that point everybody had started singing along.

_An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation_

_Oh no, not me, oh no, not me_

_Not me, not me_

The cheering didn't stop for several seconds.

Quinn took her by the arm, while Jess got on stage and started singing, and whispered in her ear. "That wasn't appropriate."

Santana raised an eyebrow. "When the fuck I ever been appropriate."

She conceded the point with a sigh. "You are right and it seems it's working."

The kids were now looking with interest at the performance, some of them tapping their feet to the rhythm, others mouthing the words. They were just about twenty, give or take a few. Santana observed them. There were a few normal looking teenagers, three who looked like rappers, four geeks, five jocks in their blue jackets, two Berry wannabe in miniskirts and four cheerleaders. What caught her attention was the look of longing and sadness a dark haired girl in torn jeans and t-shirt was giving a redhead in a cheerleading outfit. She made a mental note to talk to Q about her. She went back to listening to her friend singing his heart out.

The three adults had still two or three songs more to sing. They stood in the middle of the stage, hand in hand. They closed their eyes.

"Remember, when everything goes wrong, try to sing…Sooner or later it will get better"

Quinn started the first verses.

_I turn the music up, I got my records on_

_I shut the world outside until the lights come on_

_Maybe the streets alight, maybe the trees are gone_

She looked around as if searching for something, before mimicking her heart with her hands thumping rhythmically her chest.

_I feel my heart start beating to my favourite song_

_And all the kids they dance, all the kids all night_

_Until monday morning feels another life_

_I turn the music up, I'm on a roll this time_

_And heaven is in sight (oh...)_

Jess continued where she left off.

_I turn the music up, I got my records on_

_From underneath the rubble sing a rebel song_

_Don't want to see another generation drop_

_I'd rather be a comma than a full stop_

Santana resumed after him, she then fell on her knees and mimed the beating of her heart with her clasped hands on her chest.

_Maybe I'm in the black, maybe I'm on my knees_

_Maybe I'm in the gap between the two trapezes_

_But my heart is beating and my pulses start_

_Cathedrals in my heart_

They separated for the last verses and went to the edge of the stage, holding out their hands to pull the students upstage by their arms. They sang all together dancing around and having fun.

_And we saw, oh, this light_

_I swear you, emerge blinking into to tell me it's alright_

_As we soar walls, every siren is a symphony_

_And every tear's a waterfall, is a waterfall_

_Oh, is a waterfall, oh oh oh, is a, is a waterfall_

_Every tear is a waterfall, oh oh oh_

This was the true meaning of a glee club.

Santana went to look at her phone, while her two friends were talking with the students. They were taking a break and all the teenagers were chatting excitedly. Everything was going great and she was really happy for Quinn; she knew how much it meant to her. She was going to become a better teacher than even Mr. Shuester was. She had the knowledge to support her passion; she was a force of nature. Santana only hoped her students would appreciated her enough.

She tapped the screen and noted three lost calls from one of his clients and two from her secretary. It was time to return to work. She put a hand on Quinn's arm to draw her attention. "Sorry, but I've got to get back to work. I had fun, thanks."

"No, thank you." They embraced. Jess joined them. "Is it okay for you to give this reject a ride home?"

His response came at the same time as the one from the blonde. "Hey!" "Sure!"

She yelled. "Bye guys!" And received a chorus of "Bye!" "Bye, Miss Lo!" Before walking out the room.

The blonde went to retrieve her Blackberry and her eyes went wide when she saw she had three texts from a certain tall dancer. When she read their content her face went white. One of her students, a cheerleader named Brooke, noticed, "Is it everything okay, Miss F?" With a lump in her throat she nodded, before grabbing Jess by the arm and dragging him to the door.

Brooke picked up the phone fallen from her teacher grasp. On the dimly lit screen three texts were open.

[Sry 4 yesterday. will try 2 make it. I know how much it means 4 u. – B.]

[Out of class early. Get there soon. – B.]

[Where is the auditorium? Im lost. – B.]

She furrowed her brows; it didn't seem something bad. She shrugged and went back to talking to Josh. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Steph staring at her; she clenched her jaw. She had to put a stop to it or soon people would start to detect that there was something between the two of them.

Meanwhile in the hallway the brunette was walking to the entrance when at the other side a blonde exited from a previously closed door. Quinn was sure Brittany would soon recognize Santana, even if she could only see her back. She started to think about what she could do to draw the blonde awareness away from the brunette, but came up empty handed. As if in slow motion she saw the blonde eyes lift to the floor and to the other girl, when suddenly the bell rang and the hallway filled with people, obscuring her view. The Latina reached the parking lot unnoticed. Quinn sighed with relief and chanced a glance to Jess. The expression on his face mirrored hers; they had just dodged a catastrophe by a hair's breath.

When they say saved by the bell…


	4. Chapter III: The One That Got Away

**Chapter:** 4/?

**Word Count:** 4011

**A/N:** I know that a certain episode was aired on a certain date, you'll find out about it later, but I anticipated the events in it a couple of days. Let me have this artistic license.

The songs used are Katy Perry's "The One That Got Away" and Queen's "We Will Rock You".

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III<strong>

**The One That Got Away**

Lima, 12th September 2012

Quinn was speechless. When twenty minutes before she had received a text from Santana asking, no pleading, her to go to Brittany house she hadn't expected to find a scene like this. She had never seen the other girl so broken.

Mrs. Pierce had opened the door and welcomed her with a hug. It was clear that the older woman was truly worried; usually a smile never left her face, but now her mouth was settled into a deep frown. She motioned her to climb the stairs without uttering a word. Quinn's heart started to beat faster; something was truly wrong.

Brittany's door was ajar; she knocked on the wood before letting herself in. The other girl was seated on the bed, a vacant look on her face, and didn't move an inch, not acknowledging her presence. She cleared her throat but received no response.

"Hey, B." Even her feeble greeting went unnoticed. She looked around the room, but everything seemed in order. While the other girl continued to stare ahead, she gave her a closer scrutiny. On her cheeks there were two dried tear tracks, her hair was ruffled and wild as if she had run her hands through it for a long while, but what caught her attention were her hands. They were clenched so tightly they were ghostly white in color and that contrasted with the scratches that covered them and also run up pale arms.

Quinn grew frantic. "B, what happened to you?"

She kneeled in front of the blonde and cradled her fists in her palms with care. She tried to open them, but they didn't budge. She tried with more force to no avail. Brittany persevered to stare blankly ahead. Quinn frowned and turned them upside-down; there was a piece of paper in her right one. It was crumpled and torn on the edges; the ink was smudged and from what she could guess it was because of fallen teardrops.

The bed dipped from the weight when she took place near her friend; the positions they were in were similar to the ones they had in New York, but their roles reversed. She wrapped an arm around the other girl and waited for a sign.

When nothing changed after a couple of minutes the shorter girl chanced a better look at the letter: it was Santana's handwriting.

Her heart, which hadn't slowed down since she arrived, tripled in rhythm. Swallowing the lump in her suddenly dry throat, she asked. "Santana?"

As if that was the indication she was waiting for Brittany face crumbled and she fell into Quinn's arms. Her sobs were loud and wrecked her body so strongly that the other blonde had problems to hold her. She ran a hand trough tousled hair in an effort to comfort her.

After a long while the tremors subsided and the tears stopped falling. Brittany had cried herself to sleep. She put a gentle palm over a wet cheek while her eyes started to become glossy. It hurt to see an innocent soul like her in such a state.

She extracted herself from a lax grip and with a trembling hand she managed to retrieve the crumpled letter without disturbing the sleeping girl. She covered her with a blanket before taking a seat on the windowsill.

Her eyes widened when she took in the words staring back at her.

* * *

><p><span>New York, November 2016<span>

Quinn returned her attention to the blonde walking towards her. While she was out of earshot she turned to Jess. "Not a word. I don't know how much y-"

He interrupted her warning. "Don't worry, blondie. I don't know much, she's not the best at sharing." He shrugged. "But I have eyes."

She gave him an inquisitive look. "It's in everything she does. Especially when she thinks nobody is watching. Even a blind man could sense the heartache."

She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and wondered briefly how much there was beneath it all if an egocentric individual like him could tell.

The dancer shook her from her thoughts when she breathlessly greeted them. "Sorry. I got lost. I think I ended in the broom closet…" She paused with a puzzled expression. "…Wait, that's in Hogwarts…" She snapped her fingers. "It was the janitor closet. Anyway, here I am. Am I in time to sing?" She asked with a smile, before frowning and indicating Jess.

"I have already seen you somewhere, haven't I?" She tilted her head, eyes alight with curiosity.

"How can you not remember me? I'm unforgettable!" He exclaimed affronted.

"Apparently not." Brittany deadpanned. Quinn snorted.

The brunette ignored them and introduced himself running a hand through his hair for show. "Jess St. James, you should remem-"

"Ah! Shuester's illegitimate son!" She exclaimed happily.

"Not you too…" He grumbled.

The nearest students were giving them strange looks, so the teacher decided it was time to get back to work. "Britt, Jess, the principal gave me the use of the auditorium only until 10, so it's better if we hurry. That way we can squeeze in another couple of songs; we can talk another time. What do you say?"

They both nodded.

"I'll let you have the stage, B. Okay?"

"Sure."

Jess added in his cent. "Great idea. Leave the best for last. And that means me." His smirk was met with an eye-roll and a tilted head accompanied with a blank stare.

Once inside the auditorium. Quinn addressed all of the remaining students. "Silence, please! Can you take your seats again?" They all obeyed. "Thank you. Another member of my old glee club has just arrived and wanted to perform a song for you. She's a professional dancer and has toured with Beyoncé."

Brittany stepped on the stage and a round of catcalls and whistles started. "Hot damn!" One of the more promiscuous jocks yelled. "You can perform for me anytime you want!"

"Rick!" He was immediately chastised. "Sorry, Miss F."

"I wanted to sing a Ke$ha song, but I couldn't find one not too explicit." The audience laughed. "So I chose an old Katy Perry song." It seemed to go well with the public; everyone was smiling.

As the drum started she introduced herself. "I'm Brittany S. Pierce…" She shrugged and added after a beat, provoking a round of sniggers. "…Bitch."

_Summer after high school, when we first met_

_We make-out in your Mustang to Radiohead_

_And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos_

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 4<span>th July 2011

She and Santana were getting back from Rachel's house after a glee club party.

They had all decided to celebrate together. Sadly there was no alcohol involved, but they managed to have fun anyway. Even Zizes was present. The only one missing was Quinn. She frowned. Since school ended, or more precisely after New York, the other blonde had practically vanished. She had seen her merely twice and only because she and San appeared on the Fabray doorstep and used the spare key hidden under the mat. They found her lying on her bed with the blinds closed and punk music blasting through the speakers. The first time it happened they tried to cheer the broody girl up, they were cheerleaders after all, but without avail; the second time Santana started yelling, but seeing as she didn't get any kind of response they left after promising to be back to check in on her the next day. When they arrived the key wasn't anymore in its usual place. Santana took her hand and murmured her to give Quinn space. "She knows we're here for her, she will find us when she needs us."

It was strange being at the party without her. They always went together. They even got the nickname of unholy trinity for that reason. Now a third of it was missing and furthermore she and Santana were stuck in a limbo.

They weren't best friends nor lovers, girlfriends even less.

The situation was starting to fray her nerves. This tiptoeing around each other was frustrating for both. The Latina still hadn't found the courage to show who she truly was to the world. Only when it was just the two of them she was herself. Those moments reminded Brittany why waiting for her was worth the effort.

They were walking side by side in side in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Brittany was shook out of hers when she felt a warm hand wrap tightly around her own. She smiled at the gesture and noticed that Santana was looking at her reaction sidelong. Her smile grew further because it was so rare to see the other girl nervous. It was obvious there was something she wanted to say, but hadn't found the guts to do so yet. She tilted her head showing that she had her undivided attention.

"I wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful tonight." The Latina cleared her throat. "I hadn't had a chance to tell you yet, so…" They both blushed, but luckily it was too dark to see.

"Thank you. You too…" She replied honestly. In that moment she took a decision. "Do you want to sleep over? My family is in Columbus and they aren't getting back before tomorrow evening." She was met with silence and started to regret it. "We can talk…"

Santana tightened her grip to let her know she understood. "It's a good idea, Britt-Britt. Can we make a stop to my house before? I'll leave a note for my parents." She nodded.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence and Brittany was starting to feel jittery. She waited for the other girl to gather her things and smiled at the photo of the glee club at the finals. Santana had started to fulfill her promise: she had finally showed a little bit of her true self.

Two arms wound around her from behind and a light kiss was placed on her neck. This was the closest interaction they had since May. She melted a bit on the inside; she had missed this, their intimacy. She smiled; they would soon be okay again.

The route to Brittany's home was a lot more relaxed, as if they had both realized something they both ignored before.

They went directly to the blonde's room. Brittany exited the bathroom clad in her sleepwear and found in front of her the brunette with a bottle of red wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, a devious smirk on her angelic face. "I found this at home. My parents must have forgotten about it. It would be a sin to let it go to waste."

_Used to steal your parent's liquor and climb to the roof_

_Talk about our future like we had a clue_

_Never planned that one day I'd be losing you_

She shook her head, but her fond smile told otherwise. She took two blankets and motioned to the window before lifting the lid and stepping outside on the roof.

It was their tradition to watch the fireworks together, sitting on the rooftop. They had done so since they were big enough not to give their parents a stroke when they saw them.

However they didn't even notice the sky alight with colors, they were too lost in each other eyes. Wrapped tightly together, warm from the blankets and the wine ingested, they were the happiest they had been in a long time.

When they kissed the sparks they felt had nothing to do with the pyrotechnics exploding above them.

_In another life, I would be your girl_

_We keep all our promises, be us against the world_

_In another life, I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say you were the one that got away_

_The one that got away_

They stayed up there on the rooftop the whole night talking about their dreams, their hopes, and their future. They talked about their relationship, deciding to go with the flow; when the moment to define with more clarity what they had came, they would know. It had always been kind of natural between them; one was drawn towards the other and vice versa.

In that instant it seemed it would always be that way. It was like gravity, always there even if you didn't see it.

Neither could know that everything would be soon thrown upside down.

_I was June and you were my Johnny Cash_

_No one without the other, we made a pact_

_Sometimes when I miss you, I put those records on, woah_

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 11<span>th January 2012

Santana hadn't said anything, but since she, Tina, Berry and Wheezy had sung The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face to help Mr. Shue with the proposal she couldn't stop thinking about her future. Their future. Hers and Brittany's. Together. She couldn't stop imagining every detail, every aspect of that life. She had all of it within her reach. She closed her eyes.

If she extended her arm she could almost touch the texture of the comforter that covered their bed. It was light blue to match the walls and because it was the blonde's favorite color. While her old room was dark, this was colorful and bright; while in the previous one she found shelter from the outside world and she hid herself, in this one she found happiness and peace. She could picture an older version of her girlfriend entering the room and giving her a quick peck on the lips with the intimacy only people who have been together for a long time can display. Her style would be eccentric as always, as if the passing time couldn't weaken her uniqueness. She could envision the light glinting off the golden ring on Brittany's hand. The same ring she could perfectly see herself playing with absentmindedly when agitated.

_But in another life, I would be your girl_

_We keep all our promises, be us against the world_

_In another life, I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say you were the one that got away_

_The one that got away_

Her heart wouldn't stop beat rapidly inside her ribcage as if it was a hummingbird trying to escape and fly away. This was how being in love felt like. It was the best feeling in the world. She briefly wondered if her Spanish teacher was scared or excited when he decided to propose to Miss Pillsbury or if he was calm and collected because it should have been an ordinary evolution of a relationship.

Santana couldn't stop fidgeting. The more she thought about it and the more it seemed the most obvious choice. She was getting impatient. Tears started falling from her eyes because now she had the possibility to ask that question to the blonde. Their parents accepted their relationship; they would support them through such an important step. Here in Ohio they couldn't marry each other yet, but in New York they could. They had both applied for schools in that area, so if, scratch that, when they got in, they could move there together. Then when the right moment came they could tie the knot.

She smiled, because even if they couldn't get married now, they could promise each other to do so.

The Latina didn't think about a negative response from her girlfriend because she felt how much the blonde loved her and also because her heart couldn't take a refusal.

_All this money can't buy me a time machine, no_

_Can't replace you with a million rings, no_

_I should'a told you what you meant to me, woah_

_'Cause now I pay the price_

She decided to go the mall; she had been to the jewelry shop when buying Brittany her Christmas present, a pair of earrings, and thus the shop assistants had to remember her without a doubt. How forget her incredible performance with Finn as a clothes tree? She still shuddered every time she recalled her only, luckily for her, encounter with his little branch. Eww.

Anyway a couple of hours should be more than enough to give a look to the rings…and to flirt with the poor clerks. It was so funny to watch them get all flustered and make them swoon.

_In another life, I would make you stay_

_So I don't have to say you were the one that got away_

She exited the mall with a smile on her face. She had seen the perfect ring. It screamed Brittany. It was peculiar, but elegant and sophisticated at the same time. Furthermore it didn't cost too much and she could afford it because during the past three years she had put a little sum away for emergencies. And this was indeed one.

She was contemplating the best way to ask her parents for their consent, when a note on the kitchen table caught her attention. It had been firmed from both of them. Strange.

[Mija, we are sorry but we both have a late shift so we will not be home until after midnight. Please, do not make plans for tomorrow. We have to talk. Te queremos.]

She frowned. Usually her parents weren't so cryptic, especially not in notes. They consisted of chores for her to do, little reminders to eat or whishes to have a good day. Often they explained they would be home late from work and not to wait for them awake.

But it didn't seem anything bad, mainly because of the 'love you' at the end. Tomorrow was her birthday, thus there couldn't be any chance that something unpleasant was waiting for her. Perhaps they organized a surprise party or probably they wanted to make a speech on the responsibility that comes with adulthood…blah blah blah. Knowing them she leant towards the last option. Besides worrying solved nothing. Now she had an imaginary wedding to plan. And she had to wear her new dress because at the stroke of midnight she might receive a blonde present to unwrap.

* * *

><p><span>New York, November 2016<span>

_The one that got away_

The last note was followed by a thunderous applause. She accepted the praise with a smile, but Quinn could see from the sideline that her lips trembled a little and that her blue eyes were glossy from unshed tears. It was evident that the song had a meaning for the dancer and that it brought out a few ghosts back in the open.

Jess, as if in tune with the teacher's thoughts, stepped onto the stage and caught the general attention. "No, it's my turn. So shoo." He began jokingly pushing the blonde away, but she continued slipping from his grip to the amusement of her students. He called her over. "Now with the help of these two wonderful ladies" Some of the female students swooned at his charm. "I'll show you what true music is."

The beat of the drum was unmistakable.

_Buddy you're a boy make a big noise  
>Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day<br>You got mud on yo' face  
>You big disgrace<br>Kickin' your can all over the place_

He strolled all over the stage. The audience was starting to get into it, clapping along to the rhythm. On the chorus the two blondes joined him.

_We will  
>we will rock you<em>

Soon after everyone was singing to the lyrics and jumping around to the rhythm. They obviously were having fun.

After it ended Quinn addressed her students. "Who wants to join?" Several hands were raised. "Have you got any questions?" A couple of them remained up in the air.

"Yes, Steph?"

"How does it work? Do we get to decide the songs or you choose them?"

"Every week I'll select a theme, a topic around which center our focus. You will pick the songs, but I will have to approve. I can't you sing something…" She paused. "Let's say too risqué." Some sniggered.

She gave her attention to another student. "Yes, Sam?"

"Do we all have to sing and dance?" He seemed embarrassed. "I can't dance."

"You don't have to do anything you aren't confortable to, but I'm sure a bit of practice won't hurt." A few girls nodded, thinking about their terrible dance partners during the prom. "At rehearsal all of you will get the change to sing, taking turns, but during official performances I will choose who gets the solos. You have to deserve them, to prove your making an effort to improve. Anything else?"

She looked around but they seemed satisfied. "The ones of you who want to join have to be here next Monday sharp at two. Okay?" A chorus of yes followed the question and the students started to clear the room. The three adults were left alone.

Jess decided it was best to leave before the two blondes posed uncomfortable questions he couldn't give the answers to. "Sadly I have a previous engagement I can't absolutely miss, so it's better if I get going. It's has been a pleasure seeing you again. Brittany, Quinn." He sent a subtle but meaningful glance to the last.

"Thanks, Jess."

"Bye." The taller girl waved.

Once alone she turned to the teacher. "How did you get him to come? I didn't know you kept in touch…" She wore a perplexed expression.

"We have a friend in common, and he owed her a favor." She tried to keep it vague, but the dancer pressed on.

"Who?"

Quinn decided to change tactic. "Sorry B, but I have a lesson to prepare. Is it okay if we talk about it at home?"

"Sure. See you later, Q."

"Later, Britt. And thanks." They exchanged a quick hug.

"I had fun." And with a last wave she left the room.

Quinn had to create a good explanation before the evening; the other girl never forgot anything. Especially when something piqued her interest. She sighed. The things you do for your friends…

Santana was reading a file regarding her latest case when a senior partner called her.

"Good afternoon, Santana."

"Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Rogers."

"I will arrive directly to the point. I have a favor to ask you."

"You can count on me. What is it?"

"I have two reservations for a theatrical show this Saturday, but I have to attend to case in New Orleans and I won't be able to get back until Monday. It could be a great chance for you. A big client of ours is a great musical fan, so accompanying him and his wife and engaging in small conversation could ensure us his favors. I know you are well versed on the argument. You're friend with Jess St. James, right?" She nodded and he continued. "Furthermore there was the after party that was quite the perfect location where to find new potential clients. Can you do what I asked you to?"

"Without a doubt, Mr. Rogers. I won't disappoint you."

He smiled. "Perfect. And bring a date, please."

"Sure, Mr. Rogers. I have a friend of mine who is the perfect person to make a good impression."

He acknowledged her answer with a nod of his head and let her to her work.

She called Quinn. "Hello? Hey Q. Are you free Friday?" She waited. "Perfect. I have two seats for a musical, do you want accompany me?" She listened to the blonde's questions. "No, I have no idea about which one is yet. I'll let you know when I get the details, okay? Bye, Q."

She leant against the back of the chair. Soon she could go home and relax a bit; it had been an eventful day.

She was ready to turn off the computer when an email arrived. She skipped through the contents, but did a double take. Staring in black and white back at her there was a name she hadn't heard of in a while.

…

Starring

Rachel Barbra Berry

…

Things were going to become interesting.


	5. Chapter IV: I'm In Here

**Chapter:** 5/?

**Word Count:** 5090

**A/N:** Thank you for all the reviews, favorites and alerts. As always the replies are on my Tumblr.

I felt very gleeful, pun intended, so I decided to experiment a little; so beware: this chapter will contain a mash-up.

To spoiler you a bit I'm warning you that next chapter will be a tribute.

This chapter's songs are Sia's "I'm In Here", My Chemical Romance's "I Don't Love You" and Pink's "Please Don't Leave Me".

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter IV<strong>

**I'm In Here**

Lima, 22nd February 2012

Having a surgeon as a dad had its perks. Being able to intimidate the interns and to have them indulge in her very whim when she was at the hospital to get in her father's good graces were only two of them. What she truly appreciated at the moment was the ability to know so well her way around; thus she had been able to return to this room unnoticed.

The visiting hours ended an hour ago and the others had gone home then. She had used the excuse of waiting for her father to remain there without problems.

_I'm in here_

_Can anybody see me_

_Can anybody help?_

She looked at the broken girl in the hospital bed. Tears started to flow freely down her cheeks dripping on the bouquet in her hands. Such beautiful flowers were so out of place there; they were meant to be a symbol of happiness, to adorn an already wonderful moment, not to brighten a gloomy hospital room. She threw them in the bin next to the door.

She pulled a chair near the bed and stationed herself there, intending to spend the whole night there. She had already sent a text to both her parents informing them she would not sleep at home; she would deal with the aftermath the following day. Now she had to be there for her friend.

She frowned; she couldn't understand where the hell Quinn's mother could be. Did their relationship grow so cold that she wouldn't take her time to stay at her daughter bedside? She mentally shrugged; it didn't matter. What mattered was that she at least was in here, so when the blonde woke up she would know that someone cared about her.

She took a pale hand between her tan ones letting them rest on the bedspread. Thinking that she could have lost one of the most important people in her life made her consider all that had happened in the last two months.

She laid her head on their entwined hands, a mass of black ringlets tickling her bare arms. The neon lights made the room appear as it was the scenery of an old black and white photo. Even the bright pink dress seemed to have lost its color and Santana looked ashen and weak.

And she truly was, she thought. She lifted her head and stared hard at Quinn.

"Q, please wake up." Her voice trembled. "You know I would never beg you if it was a normal situation, but it's not. So, please, wake up and…" She gulped down the lump in her throat. "You are really a great friend. I know I never really told you, but, other than B, you're the only one I can truly count on."

Her tears, which had never really subsided, were now flowing with renewed vigor. "I really need you, Q. I'm selfish, I know, but I need you to listen. This may be the only chance I've got to tell somebody this. I don't know if I will be able to find the strength to retell again all of this."

She ran a hand through her hair, ruffling them. Neither her nor the girl on the bed noticed. One too lost in her thoughts, the other just lost to the world.

_I'm in here_

_A prisoner of history_

_Can anybody help?_

"Where can I start? You know how often things are not what they appear…"

* * *

><p><span>New York, October 2016<span>

Santana took a deep breath to recollect her thoughts and began to describe the past five years of her life to the blonde.

_Can you hear my call? Are you coming to get me now?_

_I've been waiting for you to come rescue me_

_I need you to hold all of the sadness I cannot…_

_Live with inside of me_

"I don't know if what I did can be described as selfless or as selfish instead. I think it was a bit of both, because if I had been selfless from the start I would have never gotten together with her. She could have done so much better than me." She saw the other girl roll her eyes at the statement, but she continued before she could get interrupted. "Don't give me that. It's not some self-hating crap. I'm not saying I left her because she was better than me. I'm saying that I stayed with her until the end of summer because I wasn't good enough." She spotted the frown on the blonde's face. "The moment we received our acceptance letters I knew we would have had to part ways, but I was too coward to do so. I preferred to live in bliss, feigning nothing would ever change."

"But a lot of couples have long distance relationships. You two could have made it work."

Santana shook her head. "No. We couldn't have. You know how Britt is. She is very touchy-feely. I would have gotten jealous, I would have said awful things without meaning them, and she would have gotten upset."

The blonde didn't seem convinced. "You can't build your life around maybes."

The answering smile she received was bittersweet, but she couldn't decipher the endless sadness behind chocolate eyes. "You know, Q. You're better at figuring things out than I gave you credit for."

The ex-cheerleader didn't appreciate the compliment. "Stop making a fool of me. You can't expect me to accept these lines you're feeding me. I know you better than that."

The brunette clenched her still shaking hands until the knuckles turned white and turned her head to stare out the window. A young couple was walking hand in hand, stopping from time to time to kiss each other on the lips.

"You keep forgetting something, Q. You may know me well, but I know…" She corrected herself. "…I knew Brittany better. Better than you, even better than herself. I knew how she is when she loves someone, so I could predict how she would behave. She would have given up her dream for me."

Quinn interjected again. "But, maybe, you were her dream."

"I know I was." That admission followed by a desolate smile shocked the blonde into silence. "But I was a temporary one. Dancing had always been her one true passion; I couldn't bring myself to take that from her. I loved her so much." She chuckled. "I still love her so much." A lone tear fell down brimming brown eyes. "This may be all bullshit to you, but it's the truth for me." The Latina diverted her eyes, conscious of what she left out, to stare at her trembling hands. "I did a favor to everyone. I didn't extinguish her fire. This way she had been able to burn brighter than ever before. She danced with Beyoncé. She is living her dream."

Quinn was stupefied by the other woman knowledge. "How do you know?"

"Everybody does." A shrug followed the answer. "And I am living mine." She clenched her jaw at the tightening of her chest she felt and she gulped down the bile she could feel raising to her throat at the blatant lie. She hoped her friend wouldn't notice.

"You don't seem happy." The blonde commented objectively, without malice. "Don't judge a book from its cover." She tried to lift plump lips into a smirk, but the result was more of a grimace. "I am a partner in a major law firm. I have money. I am everything I had always wanted to be: successful, powerful."

The other woman didn't seem convinced in the least, "Sometimes love is not enough." But she let it go. "You should understand."

"Because of my daughter?"

"Also." The widening of hazel eyes showed she comprehended perfectly what Santana just implied. "You keep forgetting that I know you well."

Ignoring the unspoken words Quinn solicited. "Why did you leave her that way? I can understand your reasoning. I'm not saying I agree with you, however I can see where you come from. But why did you say those horrible things? Why leave on such a bad note? She was a mess afterwards." The blonde had tears in her eyes recalling those moments. Santana's heart broke again hearing how much pain she put the love of her life in. "You could have stayed friends."

"That's exactly why I did it." A bewildered expression stared back at her.

"What do you mean? It doesn't make sense."

A sad knowing smile appeared on a tan face. "One day you'll understand." The brunette continued before Quinn could enquire more about that statement. "And anyway a heart has to break completely before it can be mended again. I gave her the chance to be happy again someday."

"And what about you? You said that you still love her. Now things are different. Why didn't you try to-"

She interrupted. "Because they are not." Sensing that the answer wasn't enough she resumed. " And because I can't be the one to mend it."

That seemed to satisfy the blonde, but brought other questions to the surface. "Why didn't you tell me anything back then? I could have been your friend during those past years."

"Because I needed you to watch over her. If you knew about my intentions, you would have tried to sway me. You are a romantic soul, Quinn Fabray, don't deny it."

The pale woman blushed. "Look, she's blushing! How precious!" Small smiles emerged on both their faces.

"Why did you tell me now? I heard what you said before, but…" She trailed off.

_I'm crying out_

_I'm backing down_

_I am feeling it all_

_Stuck inside these walls, tell me there is hope for me_

_Is anybody out there listening?_

"Because I had to let it all go." Treacherous tears sprung back in her eyes, blinding her for a second. "Because you are the only link left in my present to my past." As if sensing something important happening the blonde was moved by the Latina's words and her hazel gaze was turning shinier every second ticked by. "Because it was time to give you this."

After rummaging through her purse Santana gave the blonde an envelope and quickly retracted her hand. When Quinn opened it, a key fell on the table. "It's the key to my heart. Keep it safe. You're are the only person, other than her, whom I would trust it with." She dissolved possible questions with a shake of her head. "All in due time. One day everything will be clear." The other woman nodded in acceptance.

_Can you hear my call? Are you coming to get me now?_

_I've been waiting for you to come rescue me_

_I need you to hold all of the sadness I cannot…_

_Live with inside of me_

At the end of her tale both had tears in her eyes.

"That's it… So am I forgiven?" The Latina asked with a tentative smile.

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 22<span>nd February 2012

Santana woke up because someone was shaking gently her shoulder. She could recognize that kind smile anywhere; it was her father. "Mija, why don't you go home to rest? If anything changes I will call you."

She shook her head. "I want to stay here to let her know that I care about her, that she's one of my best friends. I don't know if I'll be able to say all those things another time."

His smile turned sad. "Mija."

"No, papa. I decided. I want to know. Life is unpredictable, but I want to know that I can choose what I do with it. I can't live waiting for that moment to take it all away. Like it happened with Quinn."

Warm arms enveloped her from behind and she let herself break down.

_I'm in here_

_Can anybody see me?_

_Can anybody help?_

"I want to let the people I love know how much they mean to me. I want _her._ But most of all I want her to be happy. I want…" She trailed off and turned tear-filled eyes to her father for reassurance, but he was crying too.

"Daddy…" She whispered.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay." He whispered little nothings in her ear until she fell asleep. That night she slept cradled in her father's arms.

* * *

><p><span>New York, November 2016<span>

Rachel was on cloud nine, as always after a performance. And it was an astonishing representation if she must assert so herself. Distinguished people were socializing around her and probably having conversations revolving around her incomparable talent.

She had just spotted an acquaintance from her college days when someone grabbed her arm, directing her towards the balcony. Once outside she freed herself from the strong grip and turned on her heels ready to lecture the rude person on the prominence of politeness and personal space when the sight in front of her rendered her speechless.

Her kidnapper smirked, amused at the implication. "Did I finally succeed to shut you up, Berry? Wait. Is there a mute button on your arm? If I had knew back then that manhandling you was the solution, I would have done so without remorse and stopped your endless monologues…"

This shook the woman out of her trance. "I'll let you know that my monologues are not endless, but on the contrary they reach the point using a rightful amount of words. Furthermore…" The raised eyebrow she received in response made her speech die at the beginning.

The shorter girl sighed in frustration, her good mood already a long gone memory as it often happened when the Latina was involved. "Santana. I can't honestly assert that I'm thrilled to see you again after…" She made a show of reflecting on the amount of time passed after they last saw each other. "…Five years, right?" Santana nodded and diverted her eyes.

As if suddenly clicked in the diva's mind, her demeanor changed completely, eyes cold and words furious. "I know what you're doing here. You can't just waltz back in here." She tried to keep her fury at bay, aware that people might notice the commotion if she raised her voice. "Can't you let it go? You already caused a disaster, there is no need to make everything worse."

The other girl, even if surprised at the outburst, had none of it and replied with a frown at the accusations. "What the fuck are you talking about? I just wanted to compliment you for the performance, not that you ego need more inflating or you might burst."

Rachel had the decency to look embarrassed for a second. "Oh. Thanks. You didn't know…"

"Know what?"

Realizing her slip she started berating the Latina. "Nothing. And anyway you can't expect me to welcome you back with open arms."

"As if I wanted a hug from you…" Santana snorted.

The shorter woman chided with an eye-roll. "You know what I intended to say."

She amended. "Yeah. I know. You aren't the first person to say so."

That sentence piqued Rachel's interest. "Who?"

After weighting her options for a second she replied truthfully. "Quinn." Just because she couldn't be fixed, it didn't mean that those two couldn't tighten again their ties. They had their whole lives in front of them to make up for past mistakes.

The diva blanched and stared hard into her eyes as if they held all the answers. So she added. "She's here, you know." She shrugged as if that piece of information wasn't pivotal. "I asked her to accompany me. At first I wasn't aware you were the star of the show. Then I hoped to run into you at the party."

Chocolate eyes became frantic trying to locate a head of blonde hair.

"She cried during the whole performance." That detail didn't placate Rachel in the least; rather made her more apprehensive.

With a fleeting glance she tried to convey her displeasure to the taller woman. "You had no right." Her feelings were a mess. "You…I-I…" She gave up on trying to explain herself.

"I'll leave you two alone." Santana made to leave.

"What?" The brunette wasn't aware of Quinn approaching from behind her.

With a last glance in the blonde direction and a nod, the Latina left the couple alone.

The last word she heard was a breathless whisper. "Quinn…" She returned inside to the party intending to find a glass of champagne to calm her frazzled nerves. With a trembling hand she brought the bubbly drink to her lips, but it did little for her state of mind. The reunion had surfaced memories long buried.

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 12 September 2012<span>

She had spent all the night writing that letter. It had been the hardest thing she had ever done. Leaving it at Brittany's house had been the easier part. The blonde was at the dance studio as every Wednesday afternoon, so she had told Mrs. P. she had forgotten something in her room and laid the piece of paper on the bed in plain sight. Before exiting she hugged the older woman she had known practically all her life and ruffled the kid's hair to her annoyance. She didn't have to bend to see the blond pest eye-to-eye; she was tall like all the members of the Pierce clan. "Look out for your sister, will ya?" With a last wave of her hand she forsook her second home leaving the two inhabitants puzzled at her behavior.

_Well when you go_

_Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay,_

_And maybe when you get back,_

_I'll be off_

_To find another way_

She had already packed all her belonging in her car, she had just to say goodbye to her parents and then she was ready to leave for good.

She walked at a leisurely pace, admiring the streets of Lima for a last time. Even if she had hated the small city with a passion, she was sure she would miss it a little bit; after all she had also good memories of the people living there.

She stopped at the park on her way home. She had met the blonde there by the pond when they were little.

At five she was a true terror and she would use every expedient to cause mayhem and destruction. Not that growing up she got better… Anyway she had just escaped her mother's surveillance when something near the water caught her attention. A lone duck was sleeping ashore, the light reflecting on her feathers.

She stared at it for a bit, but soon got bored and decided to poke it with her finger. The animal, startled, shook its wings and started to wobble away. She followed it finding amusement in the way it walked and continuing to nudge it every time it stopped. After a couple of times, however, the creature had enough and with a quack of warning began its attack. She was saved from the pecks by the approach of a blond kid with breadcrumbs in her hands.

"Hey, ducky!" She called and the animal calmed immediately, eating the food from her palms. Once satiated it wobbled happily towards the shore and began to swim away.

The youngster turned her attention to Santana and offered a greeting with a crooked smile; she was missing a front tooth. "Hi, I'm Brittany."

"Santana." She mumbled and when her chocolate eyes met blue ones the duck wasn't the only one charmed by this girl.

She shook herself out of reverie and walked the rest of the way home at a quicker pace.

She was ten feet away from her front door when she heard the rapid footsteps of someone running in her direction. Thinking it was one of her neighbors jogging she didn't look up. The desperate shout she heard however stopped her in her tracks. "San!"

She didn't turn and closed her eyes to stop the tears that otherwise would run down her cheeks. She had hoped to be already gone by the time her girlfriend got home. When a delicate hand closed around her arm, she tensed even more, her back straight as a railroad. With a mental scream of frustration she wore a cold mask of detachment.

_When you go_

_And would you even turn to say,_

_I don't love you _

_Like I did _

_Yesterday_

To the outside she appeared as if unaffected by the girl in front of her while inside she was crying and pleading for forgiveness.

"What!" She barked.

The blonde face crumpled completely and whereas she was crying before now she started to sob fully. Her resolve almost broke at the heart-wrenching scene, but she remembered that it was for the best.

"I-I found t-this…" Brittany's sobs were so loud that her voice trembled too much and she had to gulp a couple of times to finish the sentence. "…letter." She held up the hand holding the rumpled paper, but it shook so much that the page fell on the pavement at their feet. "I don't understand." She lifted the now free hand to Santana's face and tried to bring her close with the one still wrapped around a tan arm, but the Latina broke free with yank.

"As always." The brunette snorted as if amused by the comment.

"What did I do?" Brittany was becoming more and more frantic. "I can change, baby. Please. We-" She was interrupted.

"Didn't you read the letter? Was it too complicated for you?" A sneer enforced the insult.

A broken whisper escaped chapped lips. "You don't mean that…"

"Maybe I do."

"How can you be so mean? That's not you, San. Please. You're hurting me." Santana's heart broke with every pained whisper coming from the blonde, but she had to keep up the charade. She loved her too fucking much.

"Maybe that's me. I was trying to let you down gently." She bent to pick up the letter with affected slowness.

_I don't know if I can yell any louder_

_How many times have I kicked you outta here?_

_Or said something insulting?_

_I can be so mean when I wanna be_

_I am capable of really anything_

_I can cut you into pieces_

_When my heart is broken_

She made a show of smoothing down the creases and cleared her throat before starting to read aloud.

"Dear Brittany, blah blah blah… Oh, here it is: it's for our own good if we end our story here and go to separate ways. We're going to be too busy with building our careers and it's better to leave on a good note, than a bad one. You're too good for me and I don't want to make you settle for less than you deserve. Blah blah…Love you, Santana."

Brittany wasn't swayed and tried again to take her hand to no avail. "You're the one I want. I know you're scared of the future and that you hide behind all the meanness, but we can make it together. We are meant to be!" And she believed those words with all her heart; the Latina could see it in the way she gesticulated with her hands and in the way her eyes, even if red from all the tears shed, lightened when talking about the two of them together.

Santana closed her eyes for a second preparing herself for what was coming next. The blonde took it as a good sign and she positioned even closer to her lover. When a black glacial stare pierced her, she scrambled back, scared by the change. She had never been on the receiving end of such hateful glare from Santana.

_Please don't leave me_

_Please don't leave me_

_I always say how I don't need you_

_But it's always gonna come right back to this_

_Please, don't leave me_

"How can you be so stupid? I had put up with you because I was trapped in this hellhole, but now that I'm finally free I can leave you and never see your face again. I don't love you. And certainly I don't need you, Brittany. Never did. Never will. It was fun while it lasted." She put the letter in the stunned blonde's hand, closing long fingers around it and spun to go inside her house. She didn't turn when she heard her love break down and fall to the ground. With her back to the girl a stream of tears ran freely down her cheeks. Once inside she put a trembling hand on the door and leaned her head against it. Through the window beside it she could glimpse the dancer crawling to her feet and running away at a mad pace. She wasn't watching where she was going, the tears obscuring her vision, so she ended tumbling to the ground a couple of times, scratching her arms and palms without notice.

_Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading_

_So sick and tired of all the needless beating,_

_But baby when they knock you down and out_

_Is where you oughta stay_

The brunette almost went to her aid when she saw that, but stopped with a hand on the doorknob. She held the other hand to her chest as if it could lessen the hurt she felt inside. She sent a quick text to Quinn telling her to go to Brittany's house.

When the blonde disappeared from her view she turned, noticing for the first time her mother frozen in the hallway. She had realized what happened outside. Seeing a sad expression on that face so similar to her own made Santana break down completely. "Oh, mija."

She took three steps before collapsing in a warm and familiar embrace.

"Mami." She sobbed. "I-I…"

The older woman silenced her gently while rocking them back and forth. "Shh. I know, mi querida. Shh."

"I love her so much." She whispered between tears.

"I know."

"Lo siento. I hurt her. I hurt her so much." She was bawling at this point. "She hates me now. I can't live knowing that." Her breathing was labored.

"Oh, Mija. One day she will understand." She kissed the crown on her head, running her hands through long dark hair. "Ssh. Let it out. You'll feel better."

Her daughter shook her head. "No, I won't. I won't ever feel better without her."

"Ssh." Her shirt was drenched with tears but she paid it no mind.

She hummed softly an old lullaby she used to sing to Santana when she was little. After few minutes the broken girl was asleep.

* * *

><p><span>New York, November 2016<span>

After two hours of mindless mingling with the other guests, enough to make her senior partner happy, she stepped outside to take a breath of fresh air. She looked up at the night sky; she couldn't see the stars in New York. If there was one thing she missed of Lima was the clear night sky that allowed her to see billions of stars blinking above her. It always made her feel less alone.

She was pulled from her musings by a warm hand on her arm.

It was Rachel. "Don't think you are off the hook after what you did before."

She snorted. "You have chosen the wrong person if you think you can be intimidating"

The shorter woman took the comment in stride. "How can you be so selfish? Meddle with other people's lives without remorse."

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "I didn't see anyone storm out in a diva fit and Quinn even hugged me before when she went home."

Berry scoffed. "That's not the point. You can't act all high and mighty and play with our lives." She was starting to raise her voice.

Santana, however, responded evenly. "I'm not playing with your lives. I'm doing the right thing."

A sneer followed the statement. "Like you did with Brittany."

At the jab she clenched her jaw trying to reign in her temper. "That's different." She diverted her gaze, staring at the city's skyline.

"Look at me when you talk, Santana. At least you could make what you're saying believable"

She stared down at her interlocutor. "I'm telling you the truth."

"That's different." The diva mocked. "How is it different? Hurting people brings you pleasure?"

"Fuck off." The Latina warned through gritted teeth.

"Do you start your day thinking about whom you're going to make a fool of?"

She didn't reply, but clenched her fists even tighter until the knuckles turned white.

Rachel was on a rampage. "Today you thought: let's mess up with Rachel and Quinn."

"I did you a favor."

"Oh. How magnanimous of you! You thought that we could forget our divergences and move on happily."

"Yes, okay. I thought you two could have another chance; you just needed a push in the right direction." Santana replied truthfully.

The other brunette had none of it. "You may have been right in this circumstance and Quinn might have forgiven you, but I didn't. I still consider you a liar and a manipulator."

She stood in her space, preventing her from moving away. "You can't play God and choose what to do with other people's lives!"

"I do not!" They were practically screaming in each other faces now.

"One day you woke up and decided that you were going to break Brittany's heart."

"It's not how it went!"

They were panting from the effort. "Today you chose to meddle with mine and Quinn's."

"It's different!"

"I don't see how!"

"It doesn't matter what you think!"

"It does! Why?"

She bit her tongue to prevent herself from assaulting the diva.

They were so close they could count their eyelashes. The other girl continued to shout undeterred. "Why is it different? Why?"

"Because I'm dying!" Realizing what she had admitted the Latina blanched.

She turned to run before Rachel had the chance to utter a word.

_When you go_

_And would you even turn to say,_

_Please don't leave me_

_Please don't leave me_

Luckily their scene went unnoticed. She was near the sliding doors leading inside when Rachel caught up with her and stopped her with a hand on her arm.

She whispered. "Santana…"

"Not now, Berry. Please." She begged. The brunette, sensing her desperation, let her arm drop to her side.

She spun again to leave when the person that had just crossed the doorway caught her attention. Her breath was knocked out of her body as if someone had punched her in the gut. Fate had a very twisted sense of humor.

Chocolate eyes fixated on cold blue.


	6. Chapter V: Drumming Song

**Chapter:** 6/?

**Word Count:** 5247

**A/N:** And it's time for the tribute chapter I promised before. As always thanks for alerts, favorites and reviews and check for the replies on my Tumblr (noattentionspan89). You readers are my muses. Thank you. Grazie.

This chapter is dedicated to Florence + the Machine and the songs are: "Drumming Song" and "Shake It Out".

Enjoy and review.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter V<strong>

**Drumming Song**

Lima, 31 October 2008

Santana looked around the house. She couldn't even recall whose it was. She didn't care in the least. All it mattered was that the three main things necessary for a party were there: booze, music and Brittany. Not in that particular order.

Puckerman, a guy from the football team who had been flirting with her since the start of the school year, had picked them up at her house and they went all together in his pick-up, she in the middle pressed to Brittany's side. The ride was filled with aimless chatter from Puck, Britt's strange little comments and her side remarks, always at the boy's expenses.

Once inside the two girls had lost Puck with the excuse of having to find Quinn and their fellow Cheerios; he stayed in the hall fist bumping the other football players in greeting and stage fighting with Finn. She snorted. The lumbering boy was dressed as a cowboy, when in reality he would have been perfect as one of those air filled jacks with flailing limbs you could find outside some big stores. She whispered so to Brittany's ear making her giggle and start swinging her arms around like a fool. This started another round of giggles from either of them. They leaned on each other to avoid falling to the ground.

Their laugh was cut short by Quinn's arrival, and her sharp greeting. "What?"

"Nothing Q. I just saw one of those Ents and was telling San about it."

The blonde's comment went ignored as usual by the cheerleader, while the other two continued to exchange fleeting looks full of mirth.

Santana shook her head in wonderment and asked to herself how people could overlook Britt's brilliance.

"I want to dance. Later." And with a last squeeze of their joined pinkies the blonde let go and moved trough the crowed. Santana stood rooted to the spot staring at her retreating figure, a feeling of loss settling in the pit of her stomach. She was pulled back to reality by the other Cheerio entering her visual field.

"Tonight you seem stranger than usual." Quinn commented. "Can you stop looking in her direction? You look like a lost puppy." She added with a lift of a perfect eyebrow.

The gnawing at her stomach worsened, but she put on a fake smile. "Nothing. I was just looking out for her. You know how she can be." The lie slipped easily through her red lips and she rolled her eyes to strengthen her defense.

"And you? Who are looking for? I bet Finn. He was talking with Puck a little while ago."

The other girl blushed prettily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, sure." The Latina snorted.

"You don't believe me?" Quinn challenged eyebrow raised and a teasing smile on her lips.

"Your blush tells me otherwise." She didn't back down. They were the Cheerios with the biggest chance of getting the head position the following year and they tried to up do each other every occasion they got. In spite of all, since the first day of high school the three girls, with Brittany acting as a buffer between the hard-driven two, had formed an alliance and a strange sort of friendship; the students had started calling them the Unholy Trinity, and while they weren't on top of the food chain yet, everyone knew they soon would be.

They stared at each other for several seconds before the sound of cheering broke up their mental duel.

They effortlessly made their way across the room, past the drunken mass of teenagers, until they could see who was in the center of attention.

_There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_It starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes such an almighty sound_

Santana stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth open. She blinked a couple of time, hypnotized by the sight in front of her. Her breath got caught in her throat and her breathing sped up against her will. She had never seen something so arousing. Afraid that those near her could sense her thoughts she glanced around, but found that everyone was as mesmerized as she was.

She had seen Brittany dance a lot of times. Often she waited for her to finish her class, sprawled on the benches lining one side of the studio, and she even attended a couple of dance classes before understanding she was much better off just watching her friend without actively participating.

But this… This was different. She had never seen the blonde so unleashed, so free and so…sexy. Her mind kept screaming at her that this was her best friend, the girl she had known her whole life, the little kid with pigtails who saved her from that duck. But in that moment the two images didn't overlap and all she could focus on were long legs and a lithe waist.

_Louder than sirens_

_Louder than bells_

_Sweeter than heaven_

_And hotter than hell_

Her hormones were in turmoil. Head swirling as if she had already drunk a whole keg of beer. She started to sweat in her short red devil dress without moving an inch. Suddenly, as if drawn by a soundless call, blue orbs found her dark ones. The stare was intense and she had to lick her suddenly dry lips, not caring one bit if her tongued removed some of the lipstick she carefully applied not more than an hour before.

_It fills my head up_

_And gets louder and louder_

When Puckerman pressed close to Brittany, much closer than appropriate, and caught her chin in one of his paws to catch her attention, Santana inadvertently clenched her hands until her knuckles turned white. Their staring contest was broken when finally the blonde turned her head towards the jock and the Latina was left with a sense of dread mounting from the pit of her stomach. She didn't understand what she was feeling, her emotion too jumbled and contrasting to make sense.

When Puck inched closer until he was a hair breath from the dancer's lips and wasn't pushed away immediately, Santana turned on her heels. She didn't realize what she was doing, the only certain thought was that she couldn't stand there and watch in silence. Putting an irate mask on to cover how she was truly feeling, she stormed outside. The crowd parted to let her pass. The first whispers broke through almost immediately, not caring if the subject could hear. The only one who noticed that Santana had not been watching Puck but his dance partner the whole time had been Quinn. She threw a puzzled glance at the brunette's back, her delicate features contorting in a frown.

The fresh air did nothing to lift Santana's spirits. With the sounds of the party subdued by the distance, the click of her heels on the tiles reverberated through the night. It echoed the breaking of the pieces of her heart. She stopped at the edge of the pool, staring for a second in the dark water. She couldn't recognize the girl staring back at her.

It wasn't the same girl who left her house not more than an hour before. She wondered for a moment at those feeling she was experiencing. They shouldn't exist. They couldn't. But somehow they did. The realization stuck her as lightning, leaving her trembling and scared. Terrified because it meant that things had to change for the better or the worse. As she reflected on their past, reanalyzing their friendship in a new light, she didn't hear the steps on another person getting closer. Only when a warm hand settled gently on her shoulder, she saw the blurring contours of another girl on the still surface of the pool.

The words however didn't match the gentleness of the touch and a steely command - or was it an advice? - was clear in the tone, even if unspoken. "Don't care too much, you can't allow it."

And with that the blonde was gone, leaving her to her thoughts.

In that instant she realized she had just lost her battles. She would always come second. She weighted her chances and with the recent scene replaying in her mind she took a decision. She would lose something in any case. And if she wanted to make it out of high school with her pride intact she had to lie, to everyone else, but mostly to herself. So she buried her feelings deep inside and plastered on her best impression of detachment.

Santana Lopez wasn't one to cry and cower. She squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw and with a determined glint in her eyes went back to the party. She would do what she had to do to prevent anyone else to overpower her. No one could know about her weakness.

Walking across the threshold she noticed everyone's gaze on her. Almost immediately she caught blue eyes stealing short glances her way from where their owner was talking to another Cheerio. Even from such a distance Santana could see the guilt swirling in them as clear as the day. She shook away the feelings they evoked and tried to stop her treacherous heart from jumping at the possibility of having them returned. It wasn't as easy as she first believed, so she tried to find a way to distract herself.

She noticed Puck flirting with another victim and she strolled over, confidence oozing from her pores. Less than a foot from them she cleared her throat, interrupting them without an ounce of remorse. With a glare she sent the girl scurrying away before turning furious dark eyes on him. He smirked, misinterpreting the cause of her jealousy.

She gripped the collar of his costume and crushed his mouth on hers. The taste of _her _still lingered and it spurred her on. With a moan she deepened the kiss, imagining softer lips and gentler hands around her waist.

People soon got bored and ignored them as if nothing had happened, but she could sense two pairs of eyes staring at her back.

The second they separated to breathe, she took some of the fringes on the lapels of his brown vest. An Indian, really? How unoriginal. She thought. But after all it was the only thing that matched his ridicule Mohawk.

Puck let himself be guided by the hot brunette towards the stairs without complaining. He high-fived a couple of jocks on the way stating how the Puckasaurus always scores.

The Latina ignored the tactless comments, focused on her task.

However blue eyes continued to haunt her and plague her thoughts even when they weren't physically on her anymore.

_I go into the river_

_And I dive straight in_

_I pray that the water_

_Will drown out the din_

With a heavy grunt he fell on top of her, crushing her with his weight. She pushed his sweaty body aside, continuing to stare at the ceiling as she had been since they started.

With a lazy and satisfied grin he asked. "It was good, babe. Wasn't it?"

She replied conjuring up a grin that however felt more like a grimace on her lips. "Yeah. Totally."

"I rocked your world, I know. No need to thank me for being the one to welcome you to the awesome world of sex." She continued to ignore him, starting to recollect her discarded clothes.

"How do you feel?" He then queried with a hint of worry, seeing as she remained so silent.

"Good." She left it at it and he didn't delve deeper.

"Okay." He finished putting back on his shoes before walking to the door. Before slipping into the corridor he glanced one last time back to her. "See you around, Santana."

Once completely dressed she sit on the bed, staring at the wall. "Empty. I feel empty." She whispered to the dark room. She was alone. Her heart throbbed in pain. That night she had lost so much more than what she thought she could ever lose before.

_It swallows the sound and swallows me whole_

_Until there's nothing left inside my soul_

_I'm empty as that beating drum_

_But the sound has just begun_

She soon started to sleep with a lot of guys. She never got attached, always dumping them before the meaningless sex could evolve in something more. Brittany behaved as badly, making out with almost the whole school. Their friendship stayed the same as it had always been, but beneath it all there was an uneasiness that there wasn't before. It was as somehow both were craving for something more, but they tried to find it somewhere else, as if it hadn't been within their reach all along.

No one, not even Santana, ever noticed that coincidentally the boy whom she decided to bed that night usually was one of those who had made out with the blonde not more than few minutes before. No one connected the dots between the two cheerleaders, but their hearts felt as if linked by an invisible thread that got shorter and shorter everyday.

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 2 November 2009<span>

Quinn's promotion to head-cheerleader didn't last long, with her being kicked out from the Cheerios for her pregnancy. Her position after her dethronement went immediately to the Latina. The blonde often wondered why Santana didn't spill everything to Sue the moment she knew about her condition.

The realization came to her one day during Spanish, watching her interact with Brittany. Since that one party the previous year she had seen the brunette distance herself forcibly from her best friend. But the moment they stepped inside the choir room to perform that song at the Coach's orders Santana slowly started behaving as she did before. It was as if being there, among all those misfits, gave her the strength to be more like herself. She could see it clearly, even with all the walls Santana put around herself. Sure, she was still her caustic self, but now she smiled when she was sure nobody was looking. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Looking at her helping Brittany with a gentleness reserved only for the dancer, right hand subconsciously playing with the blonde's ponytail while Brittany's left played with the red pleats of the brunette's skirt, made Quinn's heart constrict and jealousy swell inside her for a second. Sometimes she whished she had someone to be as close with as those two where. But as quickly as it arrived the feeling dispersed because she knew how risky their closeness was. She wasn't stupid, religious maybe, but not blind. Perhaps not to the untrained eye, but to her it was obvious how they felt about each other.

She understood how important was the red uniform for Santana. Brittany wouldn't think of the consequences, but Santana clearly did. She was a planner. She acknowledged that the only way to be closer to the blonde was staying in the Cheerios' ranks. Therefore she could continue to go to Glee without a daily slushie facial and behave without second guessing each move inside the choir room. Reporting Quinn would have only focused the spotlight on the Latina, without counting the reactions of the other cheerleaders, and she couldn't have that. Thus she showed that she deserved the position bestowed and did not steal it the first chance she got, backstabbing one of her friends.

Quinn had to give it to her. Santana wasn't as reckless as she could come across.

The next period she didn't think much of it as she observed them slink, pinkie in pinkie, into the girls' bathroom; that until her bladder made herself known, and she moved silently to the door that had just shut closed.

They were placed in such a manner that let her remain unnoticed. They were kissing with complete abandon, hands everywhere, never stopping in one place for too long; tangled in long hair, raking covered backs, gripping the nearest surfaces available for support. She took two steps back, exited silently and opened again the door, this time making unmistakable noises. When she walked inside they were staring at their reflection in the mirror, combing slightly mussed hair with nimble fingers as if nothing happened.

Quinn looked everywhere but in their eyes before locking herself inside a stall. Things had definitely changed since they had joined Glee. She just didn't realize they had evolved this much.

* * *

><p><span>Lima, 31 October 2009<span>

They had decided to forego the usual Halloween Party for a quiet night spent watching horror movies in the Latina's bed. Brittany lately was fixed on everything related to space and science fiction, so they picked the ones alien themed. They put aside the scariest to watch for last and started with Mars Attacks!.

It wasn't frightening at all, but they snuggled as close as they could under the covers anyway. Santana kept watching the blonde the whole time and her heart was beating wildly against her chest when the taller girl turned to her. "Are you scared? The good stuff hasn't started yet." Blue eyes caught the light emitted by the TV and sparkled bright in the otherwise dark room.

The Latina shook her head no and feigned interest in the images moving on the screen, but her heart rate didn't slow down in the least.

Once Brittany focused back on the movie, she resumed her previous task, mapping the contours of a fair face with adoring eyes. The beating doubled in intensity.

Suddenly a long leg settled between hers and she found intense eyes staring at hers from above. She clenched her fists to resist the temptation of touching pale and smooth skin.

The blonde had always been too observant and she couldn't afford a crack in her armor.

"What are you doing?" Santana whispered, her voice leaving her at the last word.

A blue gaze alternated between her chocolate orbs, as if looking for something in them. She must have found it because, not even a second later, soft lips pressed against her own. She stood still, eyes wide open, heart almost flying out of her ribcage, but did nothing to stop the blonde. After what seemed an eternity the gentle touch of the tip of a skilled tongue coaxed them open. As their tongues battled for dominance the Latina closed her eyes, lost to the feeling. In that moment she couldn't recall for the life of her why she had fought this for so long.

As in autopilot her hips raised from the bed, finding friction against a smooth leg, and making both of them groan at the sensation.

While they caught their breaths a smirk formed on swollen lips.

"What?" Santana rasped.

"Alien invasion." And threw the covers over their heads before capturing again her lips in a searing kiss.

Their moans of pleasure mixed with the shouts and screams of terror coming from the TV.

_As I move my feet _

_Towards your body_

_I can hear this beat_

_It fills my head up_

_And gets louder and louder_

It didn't matter how many times she had already done this. In that moment she was certain of one thing only: it had never been like this before. None of those guys could make her feel even remotely like this one girl could.

She could sense the pressure rising inside of her like a wave. She tried to resist but she wasn't able to. Her heart was beating like a drum, stronger and faster, pumping her blood through her body in a mad pace. She closed her eyes at the intense pleasure and clawed at the sheets, not caring in the least if they tore up with the force she was using. She shook her head from side to side until a warm hand stilled her. She stared into endless pits of blue and she lost herself to the feeling. She arched her back off the bed and threw her head back in a soundless scream. All she heard for a second was the blood rushing in her hears.

_It fills my head up_

_And gets louder and louder_

And then silence.

* * *

><p><span>New York, 12 September 2016<span>

_Regrets collect like old friends_

_Here to relive your darkest moments_

_I can see no way, I can see no way_

A key turned inside the lock and the door was swung open.

"Honey, I'm home!" The sarcastic greeting went unnoticed, so the person in question moved further inside the apartment, looking for signs of life.

"Whoo! Is there anyone here?" A growl followed the lack of response. "I know you're here Satan, Millie said you had taken the day off with months' notice and one day is not enough to leave the city and visit home. Then…"

The footsteps moved to the living room. "…Here you are."

A groan originated from under the mass of covers on the couch. "Go 'way." An arm lifted and gestured toward the door.

"No. Your place is so lovely; I want to stay here." And with that another weight settled on the piece of furniture.

"Move, asshole! You're squishing me." The brunette ordered in a gruff tone.

"Okay. But what you're doing? Watching Real Housewives?" Blue eyes squinted at the screen. "Oh, a concert. I would have preferred a musical." A hand moved to take the remote, but the glare the action caused, made that hand stop midair. "Or not…"

"Don't you have anywhere else to be? Don't know, singing or pissing off someone else…or jumping off buildings… If you want the window is right there. Fell free to use it."

The scathing comment didn't faze the newcomer in the least.

"Is this the dvd from last Beyoncé's tour?"

This observation gained a caustic remark from Santana, who finally gave him some attention. "What do you want, St. James? And most importantly, how did you enter in my house? I don't remember giving you a copy of the keys…"

"And you didn't." He smirked with pride at his revelation. "I stole them a couple of weeks ago when I crashed here after that night of partying." The glare he received would have turned a lesser man to hashes.

They both turned their eyes back to the screen. After several minutes when the only sounds were the ones coming from the surround system, the Latina whispered so quietly that if the volume was only a decibel higher he wouldn't have been able to hear it over the noise.

"Do you ever wish you had done things differently?" He turned a concerned stare on her, but she kept hers fixed on the screen.

"Always." He replied, truthful for once.

"Me too." She called back, eyes glued on the dancers moving in the background.

He thought about asking more, but the glimpse of familiar blonde hair and tall frame made him shut his mouth with a snap.

They spent the rest of the morning watching the rest of the concert in silence. When they reached the credits he stretched his arms high above his head and with a grunt stood up. "Come on. I'm hungry. There's the Italian restaurant down the street calling my name."

Santana kept staring at the now blank screen. "Go. No one is stopping you."

"But I want to go with you." He tried to pull her up, but she wiggled out of his grip the second her feet touched the ground.

"I told you no!" She shouted, clearly distressed.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Santana…" The other girl diverted her eyes and stared resolutely at the ground. He sighed. "Okay. Then I'm going to buy some take away and come back here. How about that?"

A stiff nod was all the answer he needed; he wore the jacket he left on the back of a chair, pocketing keys and cellphone. He was with one foot out the door when the Latina called back. "Jess!"

He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "Thanks." He closed the door with a half smile on his lips.

He arrived at the restaurant whistling a song from the musical he was the lead in. Waiting for his orders he glanced at the other patrons around the room. There weren't many, mostly groups of colleagues on their lunch break. He was about to start flirting with the cute waitress behind the counter when a flash of blonde caught his attention.

There she was.

He wasn't sure at first, but when the waiter arrived at her table, she turned her head in his direction. She wasn't that different from how he remembered her in high school. She was dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirt that clashed horribly, as if she had thrown over her dancing gear the first clothes she could find. He was about to move in her direction and invent something on the spot, the first excuse that came to mind, to make her follow him, when he got informed that his order was ready. He paid for the food and when he turned around she wasn't alone anymore. Jess then noticed for the fist time that the table was set for two. When the blonde kissed the newcomer on the lips, with a heavy heart he turned to the door and stepped foot on the streets.

Just as he was about to exit from view blue eyes followed his silhouette until he vanished from sight.

Brittany frowned for a second, tilting her head and trying to recall where she had already seen that nest of gelled hair when a warm hand covered her own on the table and she reluctantly turned her attention to her companion.

_And all of the ghouls come out to play_

_And every demon wants his pound of flesh_

_But I like to keep some things to myself_

_I like to keep my issues drawn_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

When Jess opened the door sounds of laughter and notes of an old song greeted him. He put the bags on the table, before walking to the living room. Santana was watching old tapes taken after the Glee Club won Nationals her senior year. All the teenagers where goofing and dancing around while Berry poured her soul to the bedazzled microphone of the karaoke machine.

The sight of such carefree happiness didn't match with the tears streaming down tan cheeks.

_And I've been a fool and I've been blind_

_I can never leave the past behind_

_I can see no way, I can see no way_

"She was completely out of tune. My ears are bleeding!" He shouted theatrically clutching his head.

She rolled her eyes and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You're impossible."

He nodded. "Yes. Impossibly sexy." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on or the food gets cold."

"What did you take?"

"Stand up and you'll see."

She shook her head. "Take it here."

"Okay." And he left to retrieve the various boxes. Just as he rounded the corner he saw her hide a picture under the cushions. When he got back she had dried her tear tracks and tied her hair up, her insecurities and her pain hidden behind a solid mask.

Once they had finished and put away the empty containers, he thought it was time to address the issue at hand.

"Care to tell my why I found you in this state?" He asked feigning disinterest.

"No." The answer was dry and left no room for objections.

"Do you want to go out? We can get drunk…"

Again he was met with refusal. He sighed in frustration at her stubbornness.

"But we can get drunk here." She added. "One of my clients gave me a bottle of whisky as a gift. It must be top shit from the looks of it."

"Okay, but only because I can't say no to alcohol, especially when expensive." She rolled her eyes at his cheekiness and went to the kitchen to retrieve the bottle.

Jess seized the occasion to look for the picture. If before he had no intention to spill his previous encounter to the Latina, now the snapshot in his hand only cemented his decision. The edges were worn, obviously not from age but from the constant use, nonetheless the image was clear. The couple portrayed was smiling at each other lovingly. He had never seen Santana with such an adoring expression. Footsteps alerted him of her arrival and he quickly put the picture in its previous place.

Before downing his glass Jess made a toast. "To the future, because we can't keep living in the shadow of the past."

She echoed his words, noticing his satisfied look. "To the future." And with that drank hers. After all she could pretend, if not for herself, for his peace of mind, because all she had left was a past which became further away everyday.

"Now to my awesomeness!" His words broke the Latina from her gloomy thoughts and evoked a surprised laugh from her.

They spent their afternoon drinking and making sarcastic comments on the shows aired on TV. The following morning, the last thing she remembered from that night was the two of them singing their hearts out.

He kept spurring her on. "Shake it out!"

_Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, oh woah_

Maybe she couldn't forget, but she could at least survive like this until her day came. She kneeled on stiff legs and with a trembling hand she pushed rebellious curls from Jess' temple and covered his sprawled out form with the blanket that had fallen to the ground during the night. She pushed herself up leaning her right hand on the arm of the couch and with a last glance to the sleeping man she exited the door.

_And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back_

_So shake him off, oh woah_

Not too far away from the Latina's apartment a blonde had just woken up. For the first time after several months she wasn't alone in bed when she opened her eyes. She snuggled closer to the warm body next to her and thought back to the previous night, before falling asleep again.

_And I am done with my graceless heart_

_So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart_

_Cause I like to keep my issues drawn_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

Their night had been perfect. In spite of the painful memories the current date resurrected, she had managed to make it through the day and even to have fun. The person in front of her made her forget about her past and finally when she closed her eyes she didn't see dark and deep orbs staring back at her, framed by thick long lashes.

It wasn't tan smooth skin sliding against hers and dark ringlets framing prominent cheekbones she saw in the dim lightning inside a bedroom that wasn't her own. It wasn't the spicy taste she associated with the Latina she savored licking a long neck and it wasn't _her_ raspy voice calling her name in the throes of passion. For the first time she was okay with that, even if her treacherous heart kept hurting inside her ribcage. However the drumming that before was loud and clear, one name echoing with each beat, now kept getting fainter and fainter.


	7. Chapter VI: No Light, No Light Part I

**Chapter:** 7/?

**Word Count: **3037

**A/N:** I'm sorry for the delay. It should have been longer, but I decided to split it in two parts. Go take a look to my Tumblr (noattentionspan89) for replies, notes and more. If you like what you read, please review. *Pouts*

This chapter's song is "No Light, No Light".

Enjoy and review.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter VI<strong>

**No Light, No Light (Part I)**

New York, 12 September 2017

She leaned against the brick wall, a stream of smoke exiting her parted lips, head tilted up towards the sky. A cigarette dangled through shaking fingers, hashes falling gently to the ground. She tapped her foot against the concrete, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She often wondered why fate had such humor and why he always used it at her expenses. For a second pondered if the blonde had chosen this day on purpose, with the ultimate motive to hurt her. She quickly dismissed the thought as soon as it came._ She_ couldn't be so revengeful; it wasn't in _her_ nature.

Her tan skin glowed in the morning light accentuating her beauty and several people walking down the street stared at her in passing. She didn't notice it, busy crashing the butt of her cigarette to the ground with her heel. She turned to come back inside the shop when suddenly something crashed into her legs. She almost doubled over, but luckily managed to steady herself putting a hand to the wall. She looked down and scared blue eyes stared back at her. A little kid of five, six at most, had fallen down at her feet and was looking at her with tears glistening in his light blue eyes. She kneeled down, leaning her weight on the balls of her feet, and directed a warm smile in his direction.

"Hey, little guy. Are you ok?" She extended a hand in his direction, unsure on what to do.

"I'm not little!" He replied indignant. She smiled at his outburst.

"I'm lost." The expression on his face was so guilty that she couldn't help but take his hand gently in hers. "Come on. I'll help you find your mom. What do you say?"

The smile she received was almost blinding, dimples forming at the corners of his mouth, that she felt a pang in her heart. He nodded sending shaggy light brown ringlets over his eyes. Irritated he blew a breath through the corner of his mouth sending them flying in every direction. The gesture was so similar to one that she had seen another person repeat thousand of times that her chest constricted again.

She stood up and took his small hand in hers guiding him towards the general direction in which she had seen a police officer before. To keep him calm she tried to distract him with small conversation. "I'm Santana. What's your name?"

"I'm Tommy."

She gave him a warm look, before her gaze returned to wander around them. "It's a nice name." She gave up her research, being unable to watch over the people surrounding them, and cursed mentally at her height. "Tommy, it's cool if I raise you on my shoulders so you can look better?"

He nodded again and with ease, luckily he was scrawny, she lifted him over her head and put him in place. Santana held his hands between her own to make sure he didn't fell down while he glanced around. "Tell me when you see your mother or a police officer and I'll try to move us in that direction."

She felt his body move with his nod. "Careful, buddy, or you'll fall off."

"I told you my name is Tommy, not Buddy." He huffed.

She smiled in spite of herself, charmed by the kid.

"Look! She's there! Mom!" He shouted and waved his arms.

She held him tighter. "Wait. I'll put you down and walk in her direction, okay?" And with day she brought him back to the ground. The second his feet touched the concrete, he gripped her hand in his, dragging her in his excitement. A laugh escaped unbidden through full lips at such enthusiasm, trying to keep up and not lose him in the crowd.

When she heard a woman shout his name, she let go of his hand, following at a much slower pace. A tear fell slowly from her eye at seeing such a heartwarming scene. His mother's arms wrapped tightly around him engulfed Tommy's small frame and Santana could only smile at them from afar. After whispering in the boy's ear, the woman pushed herself upright and took his hand in hers.

Pulling his gaze away from her mother, the child found her smiling at them and, catching his mom's attention, gestured to her. "Santana helped me find you!"

"Really?" Another set of blue eyes turned to her.

The Latina took another couple of steps until she was in front of them and held a hand out for the other woman to shake. "Santana Lopez."

"Andrea Connor." The handshake was firm. "Thank you so much, Santana. I don't know what I would have done if…" She trailed off, looking troubled at the mere thought.

The brunette shook her head. "It was the least I could do. He's such a cutie."

He scowled at the compliment and crossed his arms. "I'm not cute. I'm handsome."

"Sorry. You're right." She amended with a smile threatening to lift her lips upwards. "Handsome."

He smiled brightly puffing his chest out in pride. "When he's no running around having a tantrum…" He deflated and whined. "Mooom!"

The two women had a laugh at his expenses, while he pouted.

"Here." Andrea fished a card from her purse. "These are my numbers and address. I'll call you so I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."

Santana tried to refuse, but it was impossible. A gentle hand stilled her arm. "Please, I insist."

With reluctance she accepted the piece of paper and when their hands brushed she noticed that her ring finger was empty. "Okay."

"I'll call you for the details. Say bye, Tommy."

The child left her mother's hand to give her a hug. "Bye-bye, Santana."

Her smile grew larger at the sweet gesture. "Bye, Tommy. Be good to your mother and don't run away again."

He nodded with energy. His mother took his hand in one of hers and made a little wave with her free one. "See you soon, Santana."

"Bye…" They turned in the other direction leaving the Latina whispering softly to their backs. "…Andrea."

She stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the space they just left, a bittersweet smile on her lips. How often she had envisioned a blue-eyed blonde with a kid so similar to Tommy, darker skinned and haired, but with eyes the same shade of cerulean of his mother, although she understood she would never be able to be inside a so beautiful picture.

_You want to hold my hand_

_You are the space in my bed_

_You are the silence in between what I thought_

_And what I said_

With a heavy heart she returned towards the bridal shop, said blonde glancing around for her on the front steps. When she noticed the brunette walking in her direction she ran in her direction and took her hand, dragging her with matching enthusiasm showed by the little boy she met mere minutes before.

Pale fingers intertwined with tan ones, until slipping away leaving only the pinkies linked together.

"I thought you had left, San." She pouted.

"Never, Britt-Britt." She squeezed her digit in reassurance. "There's nowhere else I would rather be." And added a smile to cement her answer.

"I need your opinion, I'm wavering between two dresses and I don't really know which one to choose."

"It's my job. I'm the best friend." And engulfed the dancer in a strong embrace hiding her broken expression from view or it would have betrayed her lie. Maybe if she repeated the sentence again and again she would start to believe it herself.

It was bittersweet helping the woman you love find her weeding gown, knowing you were only on the sideline of her happiness.

When Brittany left the stall with the second dress it felt as if time had stopped. She had never seen her so radiant, smile sparkling in the daylight and hair the color of the sun.

For a second she imagined a different future, another person waiting for the beautiful woman at the altar, but the shaking of her hands brought her back to the harsh reality. There was no future for her.

In her distraction the business card still held in her hand slipped through her fingers and landed at the blonde's feet. She bended to pick it up and handed it back to the Latina. The bride-to-be shot her a quizzical look, but the other woman was busy hiding the square of paper inside her bag. She also didn't notice the sudden flash of jealousy flashing through intense blue eyes. Maybe Santana wasn't the only one pretending.

At night, in the confines of her bedroom's walls Santana let her emotions run free. She was able to speak the untold truth that she could never say aloud. The truth that her heart longed to make heard. She could pour her soul to the darkness, knowing that it would keep it hidden from the outside world, and whisper her secrets to the ghosts and the shadows surrounding her. The bliss that came with dreaming never lasted long. As always she woke up trembling, tears flowing copiously down unusually pale cheeks. Her hand touched subconsciously cold sheets searching for something that hadn't been there in a long time. When she realized what she was doing, the bed somehow felt even bigger and colder than before. She was alone with her demons.

_You are the nighttime fear_

_You are the morning when it's clear_

_When it's over you'll start_

_You're my head_

_You're my heart_

The hardest parts however weren't the nightmares or the memories of her past. No, it was when the morning light filtered through the blinds, illuminating the room and chasing away her ghosts. Because she could live with them, they made her feel less alone. It was the moment of realization that she had to face another day without her heart. She had given it away a long time ago in a pond in Lima and once she did she knew she would never be able to get it back. If only it didn't hurt this much…

* * *

><p><span>New York, November 2016<span>

_No light, no light in your bright blue eyes_

_I never knew daylight could be so violent_

_A revelation in the light of day_

_You can choose what stays and what fades away_

She was frozen. Her breath stuck in her throat. She didn't blink, she didn't move. Unmistakable blue eyes stared back at her. Her heart stopped pounding for a second and then it bled with every beat it took at the cold glint in those crystal orbs. She blinked and when she opened her eyes again the blonde had disappeared, swallowed by the throng of people.

On shaky legs she walked the few meters separating her from the nearest closed door, luckily it opened under the pressure of her hand at the first try. She slipped inside and leaned against it, closing it. Cold sweat covered her head and the tremors running through her body showed no signs of stopping. She slid to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees in hopes of keeping her body still.

It had gotten worse. She had yearned to have more time. Oh, the things she whished…But it seemed the clock was clicking much more quicker than how it was supposed to. This somehow, in a kind of contorted way, made her feel better. This confirmed the choice she made was the only acceptable option.

She tried to repeat to herself that, but the hurt at the cold stare she received didn't lessen. Those eyes had pierced her chest like a sword and cut her heart in two.

Her head started pounding too; reminding her it was time to head home. In her bedroom she could wallow in self-pity all the time she wanted.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and used the back of her hands to dry her cheeks. Thank God for waterproof mascara or else she would have been a true mess. Putting a mask of indifference back in place she reentered the party, determined to get away from it all in the shortest time possible.

Scanning the room for the easier escape route she noticed Berry talking to someone with a frantic expression on her face. She was moving her hands wildly as she tried to plead her interlocutor. From the position she was in Santana couldn't see whom the shorter girl was talking to, but she decided to take pity on her and make up an excuse to avoid a scene. The small Jew had always had a flair for theatrics.

She was almost to her side when Rachel turned and spotted her. Santana responded to the wide-eyed look the other girl was sporting with a quizzical expression. For once she wanted to make a good action…

She directed a smile in her direction and addressed the other person. "Hey, Rachel. Could I borrow her for a-" The words died in her throat and the smile slid from her lips.

"Britt…" She whispered. Suddenly the strange look she received before and Berry's fury at finding her at the party made sense. She knew Brittany would make an appearance during the night.

"Santana." If the stare she stood under was cold her name was stated without an ounce of emotion. Shivers ran down her back, chilling her to the core.

She swallowed the cry that tried to escape from her lips and with a calmness she didn't feel in the least she spoke the first words to the blonde after all these years; after all those horrible lies.

"How are you?"

"Never been better." Another stab to her heart. "And you?"

"Good. I'm good." The lump in her throat was getting bigger by the second. "So…What are you doing here?" It had never been that difficult talking to her best friend.

A flash of irritation passed behind blue eyes. "I came to compliment Rachel. She was wonderful on the stage." For once the diva took the praise silently, trying to make herself smaller. "And she's also such a good friend."

The stab was deserved, so the Latina took the pent-up resentment without uttering a word.

"I wouldn't know. But if she hadn't changed since high school, I would say so…" Santana cleared her throat.

The lack of reaction seemed to enrage Brittany even more. Santana had never seen the dancer so furious, especially towards her.

"You can't-" The blonde started but she immediately stopped when the brunette's hands shot out to engulf one of hers. She threw daggers at their intertwined fingers and tugged hard to free her pale ones from the Latina's dark hands. Santana let them fall lifelessly at her sides.

"Can we talk?" She asked.

"We are talking." Brittany replied stubbornly, hard gaze never wavering.

"Please." Her pleading seemed to weaken that cold exterior, cold blue eyes warming for a second before becoming guarded again.

"Okay."

Santana exhaled a breath she didn't realize she was holding. A bit of warmth touched her lonely soul.

"Can we go somewhere else?" Even if her original plan was shot to hell it didn't mean the situation couldn't improve. This way she could at least apologize for how she had treated the blonde. She could gain some kind of closure.

"No."

The short answer stunned the brunette for a second.

"I wanted to apologize and it's a long story, so here is not the bes-"

"I can't." If Santana's ramble was unusual the dancer's strong refusal was even stranger.

Now she was getting desperate. "I kno-" Brittany shook her head willing her to understand wordlessly.

The arm that wrapped around the blonde's shoulders stopped her from saying more. "Hey, baby." A soft kiss was dropped to the crown of Brittany's hair. "Here's your drink." The guy looked around. "Where's Rach?"

The blonde shrugged. They hadn't even noticed the diva's departure, too caught up in each other. He spotted the Latina. "Hi, I'm Jake." And extended his arm towards her.

"Santana." She rasped; voice lost at the image in front of her. His hand was warm and sure in her clammy one.

"How do you know my Britty?" She mentally cringed at the possessive tone and at the nickname; when they were teenagers the blonde hated it, but now she didn't comment on it as if it was a common occurrence and had gotten used to it.

"We were in Glee Club together."

"Really?" He seemed surprised.

"Yeah. We joined together with Quinn." The Latina added.

He seemed even more puzzled than before. "I thought…" He shook his head. "Never mind. I have the worst memory. So you were a cheerleader too?"

"Yeah. Didn't Brittany tell you?"

The blonde interjected. "No. We weren't that close. I forgot to mention it."

The blow took her breath away. Santana understood the need to not mention the past, but hearing it stated so coldly and with such a detached tone hurt more than she believed possible.

Jake looked at her girlfriend with a surprised air as if he couldn't recognize the usually sweet girl.

The Latina gave a fake laugh to diffuse the tension. "Yeah. It happens. Glee Club was a large bunch."

Brittany realizing her mistake posed a gentle hand on his muscular arm and turned her attention towards him. "I'm really tired. It's better if we go." Then she addressed the brunette. "Sorry, Santana. It's has been a long day. We'll catch up another time" And with a last meaningful glance she spun to leave.

"Bye, Santana. It has been a pleasure meeting you." He said, before guiding the blonde away with a hand on her back.

Santana was left there alone in the midst of nameless people with a heavy heart and a thousands apologies stuck on her tongue. That wasn't how she imagined this encounter to go. At all.

Once stepping on the sidewalk outside she let her tears fall. Tightening her coat around her in the cold night air she made her way home. She didn't notice a pair of sad chocolate eyes observing her from the balcony.


End file.
